Harry Potter & the Curse's Cure
by Dragon-Raptor
Summary: After the events of the DOM Harry & co return for the last week of term. But then Draco puts a curse on Harry that never been cured before. Can Hermione free him, with a little help from her other friends? eventual HarryHarem
1. Aftermath of Disaster

Okay, as today is a very speical day for all HP fans, I decided that I'd start posting this story I've been working on. Updates will be slow, as I've still got a lot that I need to do (and oh so little time to do it), but I can start sharing what I have. This is a Harry/Harem post-Fifth Year fic (though can you call three a Harem?) The sex is not intended to be a major part, though it _does_ have a significant part to play... (evil girn)

At this time, this is un-beta'd. I did send the lot off to be beta'd by my usual beta, but he hasn't gotten back to me.

A Note on what is canon: I got into HP via the movies, and have yet to read the first four books (though I have read books 5 & 6). But, thank's to this site, I've got a rough idea of the main differences between the first four books and films. Thus'y the setting is mostly the books, with film stuff inserted where it's more suited.

Oh, and I'm British, and the HP world is British, thusly I'll be using 'English' English, along with the correct terms and names.

The primary ship is Harry/Hermione/Susan/Daphne, with a possibility for up to two more. There's a poll on my Author page for details. The rating is '**M**' due to adualt content: swearing, violence and sexual situations, obiviously.

These early chapters are very Hermione driven, mainly due to the situation they find themselves in. And Miss Granger's is my favourite... which makes JKR's choice for her future so... painful. There's also going to a bit of Dumbledork and Weasel Bashing (4/9)... have yet to see how far it goes...

Lawyers; I'll say it now, and we'll just carry it on for each chapter after this, okay? I don't own Harry Potter in _any _way. JKR has those rights...

* * *

**Harry Potter & the Curse's Cure**

Hermione sighed quietly as she walked a half step behind Harry as they exited the transfiguration classroom. Ever since coming back from the Ministry Harry had been in a deep funk. He was barely responsive to outside stimuli. Instead his entire attention was inward focused, brooding. Hermione could still read him clearly though, even with him turning inwards. He blamed himself for everything that had happened That Night. She could see it in his eyes the few times he looked up. He blamed himself for Sirius' death, as he did for the injuries of everyone who had joined him on his ill-fated and misinformed rescue attempt, herself included. He blamed himself for allowing himself to be played like a puppet.

The first couple of days back he'd tried to pull away, to isolate himself. But Hermione had not permitted it. She had stuck at his side whenever she could. That first day she'd been confined to the Hospital Wing, but Madam Pomfrey, perhaps seeing the way she was restless, had allowed her to leave, provided she continued to take her potions and took things easy. The curse that had struck her down could have been a lot worse, and she was going to be sore and delicate for a while. That meant no heavy lifting, including her book bag. They were both fortunate that this last week of term, after the OWL's, was mostly review on the material covered in the exams and the year in general. In muggle schools there would be games and such like. At Hogwarts some of the professors lightened up, some didn't. McGonagall fell mostly into the latter set, though she was not as serious as normal. She had been willing to discuss things and allow some wandering attentions. And today she'd been willing to discuss with Hermione a topic that had been intriguing her since the end of third year, but which she'd been forced to put off till now.

Hermione _did_ feel a little guilty about asking their head of house about Animagi, since Sirius had been one too. However Hermione had justified it: if she focused on something positive Sirius had done, it might help Harry move past his death. Harry _had _in fact perked up a little as McGonagall had talked, and so had much of the class. Ron had not, but that was not too surprising. He seemed to have lost some intelligence to the brain creature thing. Not that he had started with much anyway...

She snorted to herself. Honestly, that boy was just so infuriating! Hermione only really put up with him because he was friends with Harry too, and even then he hadn't been a good one at times. She just couldn't understand why he though as he did. He resented her for being better at spell work than him, but he never put any effort into improving. He insulted her about her hard studying, but then went to her to do his homework for her when he had put it off to the last moment! Most conversations between them included a smattering of backhanded insults and put downs, her appearance and muggle background being the main ones. He clearly didn't even realise he was doing it, but Hermione could hear them. And that was when they didn't degenerate into an argument. When that happened... well, the rest of their house had learned not to be caught between them. The only who didn't run away was Harry.

She turned her attention back to Harry. He walked with his head down, with listless movements. There was more than grief at work here, she realised. She knew that the Headmaster had finally talked to him just after he got back from the Ministry, but not what about. Hermione wanted to give him time to bring it up himself. Sadly, she knew that at some point she would have to do it herself. Harry would bottle up everything for eternity if he could.

They reached a cross passage. Hermione sighed; she had to leave him here. "I'll see you for potions, okay?" She asked him, laying one hand on his arm.

"Yea, whatever." Harry answered in a morose, broken tone. She felt her heart go out to him. She wished to do nothing more than wrap her arms around him and drive out all the horrors that life had inflicted on him, whatever it took. "Bye Hermione." He continued before moving off, his motions even more depressed and downtrodden.

Hermione stared after him. If she didn't know better, that had sounded like he was saying goodbye forever...

* * *

In the Arithmancyclassroom two girls from the same year as Hermione and Harry sat together at one desk, their bags holding the third space on the desk. The sight was common in any school, except for the fact that these two came from different houses, one of which was Slytherin.

Daphne Greengrass was tall for her year, with shoulder length blond hair and a slim, athletic figure. She had a very slight accent to her words, and startling blue eyes. It came as no surprise that her family had its roots in Sweden and Finland. They had moved to England during 1937, to escape the coming Nazi storm. As such, Daphne was English born, but retained a fraction of the accent of her grandparents.

Her companion was almost a complete contrast. Susan Bones of Hufflepuff was a little shorter than average, but had a more rounded figure. She had elbow length dark red hair, but it was not that or her sweet, oval shaped face that drew the eyes of the boys.

It was her heavy bust. She'd been one of the first in the year to develop breasts, sometime near the end of second year, and they had seemed to just not stop growing. She was the bustiest girl in their year, and in the top ten for the whole school. Appropriately, Susan herself was of two minds about her assets. On one hand, having such a large chest meant that she felt like a woman, and could catch any males eye. But outweighing that was the envy she got from the other girls, and the drooling of the boys. Very few boys looked at her beyond her boobs, and it was annoying after a while. And then there were practical concerns, like the weight and the fact that sometimes they just got in the bloody way.

As they waited for their mutual friend to arrive, Susan thought back to how the two of them had become friends. They'd both gotten onto the Express at nearly the same time, and ended up in the same compartment. With nothing better to do, they'd started talking. What had started out as a way to pass the time had become a strong bond of friendship between the two young girls. They had hoped to be sorted into the same house, though Daphne had suspected that she'd be sorted Slytherin. Susan had promised not to push her away even if that happened, and she had kept her word. That action proved her loyalty, hence why she ended up in Hufflepuff.

It was not until third year however that their third friend joined them. They had both known of her - who couldn't? – and had talked with her on occasion, but it hadn't really gone anywhere. But with third year class selections they had found themselves all in the Arithmancy class, and so they had come together in a sea of blue, the only non-Ravenclaws in the class, and formed a strong bond of friendship that matched the bond between the 'Golden Trio' of Gryffindor.

Just as she was thinking this, the third member of their own 'trio' entered the room; Hermione.

Both Susan and Daphne were worried about their Gryffindor friend. While she had cut back a little with the studying, her Prefect duties with Ron had constantly wound her up, while her worries about Harry pained her. Not even during Third Year, when she'd been cut off from 'her boys', was she this worried or distracted. They had never called her on it, but both knew that Hermione loved Harry Potter. Not for his name, fame or money, but for _him,_ Harry himself.

And it had been through her that both young women had fallen for him too.

* * *

It was a little over two hours later, and Hermione was fuming as she stormed out of the Potions dungeon, though she was able to temper her anger enough to remain with Harry.

"The nerve! Honestly, doesn't he have a shred of compassion?" She ground out to the group at large. Harry, walking silently at her side, said nothing.

Despite the year at an end and classes all but over, Professor Snape had worked them just as hard as earlier in the year. And he had continued to be abominable to anyone not in his house, and Harry in particular. Throughout the lesson she had been forced to bite her tongue, despite everything she felt, to stop herself reacting to Snape's taunts of Harry.

And yet...No matter what Snape said, Harry hadn't reacted. Exactly as she had been telling him for the last five years. And it seemed, given that his barbs had gotten nastier and nastier as the class went on, that Harry's lack of response was annoying the slimy Professor. He had gotten back by taking far too many points away from Gryffindor when Harry didn't respond to direct questions, but it was clear to her that he didn't get any satisfaction from that.

Harry's lack of reaction however was of concern to her though, as it showed just how far he had withdrawn into himself. Not even taunts about his parents had affected him, and Hermione clearly recalled the last Quidditch match he'd played in, when he'd assaulted Malfoy for insulting his mother.

Hermione frowned as she realised something. Until today Snape had always belittled Harry and his father, but his mother had never come under fire. It was as if Snape didn't want to say a word against her. Today, when clearly angry at Harry's near comatose state, Snape had delivered a backhanded insult to Lily Potter, wondering aloud how she could have fallen so low as to marry James. For an instant, he had looked wretched...

"The others would lynch me for saying this Hermione..." Daphne's softly spoken words cut across her thoughts. "...but Snape was really out of line today. Sometimes..." She trailed off, uncertainty clear across her face.

Hermione gestured for her to continue, but before Daphne could speak, someone else called up from behind them.

"Hey scarhead!" Draco Malfoy's voice, unwelcome at the best of times, was truly repellent to Hermione now. His tone was laced with frustration and anger.

Harry didn't respond to Draco's taunt. He just kept walking slowly forwards. Looking around slowly, Hermione noted that while the bulk of their classmates had gone ahead, Neville and Susan had remained close, while Daphne was a few steps away, close enough to intercede, but far enough away that no one would suspect that she was with Hermione.

As she took in the group Draco had with him however, Hermione wished that a few more of their friends were here. In addition to Crabbe and Goyle, Draco also had Parkinson, Bulstrode... all the members of Umbridge's 'Inquisitional Squad' plus the bulk of the Slytherin Quidditch team. It was over three to one against them.

Then again, they'd faced worse odds at the Ministry.

"Don't get comfortable Potter! People like you are going... Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Harry had continued to walk away, seemingly oblivious to Draco's presence.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Draco seemed to be finding Harry's current indifference very annoying, prompting him to change tactics. "Your pet deserved everything that came to him! But you'll be joining him very soon!"

"Leave him alone Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, as she could see Harry's face. His gloomy, guilt ridden mask had cracked, and very real and terrible pain and anguish had been visible. He'd stopped, head half bowed, radiating grief.

Draco turned his head to regard Hermione, looking at her with a cold fury and pure hatred. "Keep your mouth shut mudblood whore! The only time your mouth should be open is when one of your better blows his load down your throat!" Hermione was stunned, while behind her Daphne paled. Susan and Neville both stiffened in anger and her hand moved towards her wand, but the sight of the Slytherin group with wands already to hand made her pause.

"_Don't_ call Hermione that."

Harry's voice startled everyone. Hermione turned her head to look at him, to see that he had turned about and had lifted his head, glaring with deadly intensity at Draco.

Draco himself was clearly startled at first by Harry's sudden response, but then he brought his mask of superiority up and sneered. "Defending your mudblood slut Scarhead? What for? You know she'll have to spread for anyone if she hopes to survive outside your common room. Maybe even within. You're not going to be around much longer!"

Harry growled and stepped forwards a bit, invading Draco's personal space. "Malfoy… shut yourself up, before I make you." His words were spoken with an iciness that sent shivers running down everyone's spine.

Draco stumbled backwards. "You can't threaten me! My Father…"

"Your father's in prison, remember? I do… since I helped put him there." Harry cut him off coldly. As Draco went red with rage, Harry continued to speak. "You are pathetic Malfoy. I wouldn't even bother with you myself, but you leave Hermione out of this!" With that Harry turned and began to walk away.

Draco swore loudly. "I'll show you Scarhead!" He screamed as he levelled his wand. "_Reducto!"_

"_Protoego!_" Hermione yelled, setting up a shield protecting Harry. Draco's weak curse fizzled out on contact with the disk of magical energy that Hermione had cast. As she dispelled it, Harry was revealed to have already spun round, wand levelled.

"That the best you can do Malfoy?" He asked mockingly. "Daddy's really been soft on you. He was much better than that."

Draco screamed and fired off another curse. Harry almost lazily deflected it up into the ceiling. Seeing this, Draco glanced over his shoulders at his housemates. "Well don't just stand there! Get him!"

As the hexes came in, Hermione noted with approval that Neville had taken cover, herding the younger students away.

Not that his lack of a wand would have made much difference. Harry seemed to have come alive again, and was sending hexes out blindingly fast. In fact Hermione had to force herself not to watch him to the exclusion of all else.

She refused to acknowledge that she would do so from lust and desire.

The Slytherins quickly began to fall or pull back, their expressions clearly showing that they found Harry in this state unnerving. Draco had actually paled a bit, an impressive feat given his normally pasty complexion. She watched as he looked to her side. "Greengrass, stun that mudblood bitch!" He yelled.

Hermione looked to her left. Daphne was only a couple of feet away, too close for her to react in time if she were to turn her wand on her. Daphne looked back at her, then turned her wand towards Draco. "No. _Stupefy_!" Her stunned skimmed past Draco to catch Pansy in the forehead.

Draco appeared shocked for a long moment, then his eyes narrowed and he glared at Daphne. "Blood traitor..." He hissed, before looking at Harry and Hermione once more. An evil glint entered his eye.

Daphne looked across at them herself. Likely unknown to either of them, they were fending off her house-mates attack side by side, almost touching. Harry was offensive, she was defensive. The two of them blended their motions together so well it was like a dance.

The sight caused a lump to form in Daphne's throat. It was further proof, as if she needed any, that those two belonged together.

Hermione deflected another hex in to the ceiling. The Slytherins were so bad, they were more of a threat to the innocents behind them down the corridor than they were to Harry and Hermione.

Before she could step back to Harry's side however, she heard Draco cast something. The general noise prevented her from hearing the words.

Daphne however did, and she went white in fear. "No Malfoy!"

But Draco had already cast, sending a dark red bolt at Hermione. Hermione, turning around, saw the bolt almost on her, and realised that she was out of time. Just before it reached her though, something stepped between them… somebody with black hair. A gasp escaped her as the curse struck Harry, the bolt catching him right in the chest. Yet aside from a short lived corona there appeared to be no effect. Harry just blinked, then glared at the blond. His disarmer sent Draco's wand flying out of his hand, as well as sending him flying down the hall. Shocked, Draco dragging himself to his feet and ran off. The other Slytherins, those still standing, quickly followed.

"Harry!" Hermione half cried as she stepped over to her friend. "Are you alright?"

He looked at her strangely, in a manner that was both mildly repulsive and yet exciting. His eyes seemed to run all over her for a moment before latching onto her lips. "I… I'm fine. Great, really…" He almost purred, sending chills running up and down her spine.

"Harry?" she asked nervously. As she looked into his eyes, she was shocked to see a red glow just emerging from behind his green irises. After several long seconds he blinked and the glow was gone. His eyes seemed to clear and he looked about, as if startled.

"What... oh yeah. I'm fine Hermione. I just... need to be alone for a bit." He blurted out. Hermione could see fear in his eyes before he looked away, but fear of what?

"What is it?"

"Nothing!" He told her, not looking at her. He quickly rushed off.

Frowning, Hermione turned to look over the others. Susan was okay and looking after Harry with a confused expression. It seemed Hermione was not the only one baffled by Harry.

She turned to speak to Daphne... and gasped. "Daphne! What's wrong?" Hearing the worry in her voice, Susan also turned to their friend.

Daphne's face was pale, her fear and dread filled eyes still looking in the direction that Harry had gone. She was actually trembling. "Daphne?" Susan asked, concerned.

"We're in so much trouble..." Daphne told them.

"You most certainly are!" Hermione whirled round in shock at hearing Professor McGonagall's voice behind her. Her Head of House was looking scandalised as her gaze moved across the seven unconscious Slytherins. "I am very disappointed in you Miss Granger. As a Prefect you are supposed to set an example for the other students!"

"Miss, they attacked us!" Susan jumped.

"Be that as it may, you are not to be fighting in the school! Especially you, Miss Granger, in your condition."

Daphne seemed to snap out of the daze she had been in, almost leaping towards McGonagall. "Professor, you've got to find Harry at once! He's been cursed!"

McGonagall seemed taken aback at being spoken to by a student in such a tone. She looked at the emblem on Daphne's cloak, and frowned when she saw the snake symbol of Slytherin House. Hermione could almost see the question turning in her head. "I would hope that Mister Potter would report to the hospital wing if he were hurt or afflicted in any way..."

"No Professor, you don't understand!" It was only the desperation in Daphne's voice that stopped McGonagall from cutting her off. "He's been hit with a dark curse, a personality altering curse!" She seemed about to say more, but then paused.

McGonagall looked closely at Daphne, then around at the others. Neville was stood nearby, a wand held between two fingers, his pose one of someone holding something they'd rather not. "Mister Longbottom, pass that here." Once she had the wand in her hand she looked at the three young women again. "You three, come with me."

* * *

McGonagall led the three of them into her office, directing them to stand before her desk. Instead of taking the seat behind it though, she stood just in front of it.

"Now, Miss Greengrass..." She said looking at Daphne. "..Tell us what you know about the curse inflicted on Mister Potter." Hermione raised an eyebrow slightly; was that real concern in her tone?

Daphne shuddered as she took a deep breath. "Professor... It's no secret my House has a, dark slant."

McGonagall nodded slowly.

"Well... Off the common room, we have a small private library, containing books that… should not even be in the restricted section." She hung her head as she said this. Susan reached out and touched her elbow in a show of support. "Most contained mostly harmless curses, such as the curse Malfoy used on you last year Hermione, but there was this one book... it both fascinated and disgusted me. I… I couldn't help but look in it." Daphne raised her head to look McGonagall in the eye, shivering.

"It was a book about… a person's… sexual, features and drives … and curses that worked on those areas."

A small gasp escaped Hermione's throat, and McGonagall's face paled.

"What's going to happen to Harry?" The fear was clear in Hermione's voice.

Daphne looked sadly at her friend, hating to have to tell her. "The one Draco used is known as the Rapist's Curse, one of the nastiest ones in the book. It causes the sex drive of the target to grow exponentially, while at the same time suppressing their morals. The more powerful the witch or wizard, the greater the rate of increase. Wizards cursed with it will… fuck, anything they can, regardless of who or what their target is. Cursed wizards have been known to rape every man, woman, child and animal in the local area, including their own family members, repeatedly. Cursed witches have been known to… screw men to death, or to break their own bodies trying to sate their lust. Over time, the cursed become consumed by the curse, and in almost every case, had to be killed."

Hermione had paled completely. "Harry'll fight this..."

Daphne looked even more frightened. "That's the worst thing he could do! The longer he goes without giving in, the more the lust builds! One family, when one of their own was cursed with this spell, tried to protect everyone else by locking themselves in. It took nearly four months before they finally gave in and killed him. But by then, the affected wizard had raped his entire family hundreds of times. His brother's pelvis had been crushed so much, they couldn't fix it." Daphne seemed to fold in on herself. "His wife, sister, mother and two daughters were all three months pregnant." Daphne looked up, fear clear in her eyes. "Eventually, the lust will become too strong even for someone like Harry to resist. And when he snaps, he'll end up raping everyone in the school, and likely Hogsmeade too!"

All three of the listening witches were shocked at Daphne's statement. Yet they could tell that she knew what she was talking about. Eventually, Susan asked the question that was preying on their minds.

"Is there a cure or counter-curse?"

Daphne shook her head sadly. "None. Once cursed, the only way to save everyone else is to… kill, the cursed individual..."

"Not going to happen." Hermione stated with steely conviction.

They all mulled her words over, considering the ghastly consequences that could ensure from this.

"How did Draco learn of this curse though?" Susan suddenly asked. Daphne seemed to wilt.

"Miss Greengrass?" McGonagall asked sternly.

She looked up enough to meet the others eyes. "Most of the spells within it are the sorts of things that teenaged wizards and witches would curse to get their hands on. I suspect that Draco must have been told about it by his father."

Suddenly a determined glint entered Hermione's eye. One that several people, including those in the room, knew meant that she had a new quest, a new crusade. Nothing on the face of the Earth would stop Hermione seeking out and reading through that book. But both Susan and Daphne knew as well that she would only do so in order to help Harry. Hermione was not the type to be tempted by the other spells contained within that tomb. Seeing that fiery gleam in her star – and if she was honest with herself, favourite – student, McGonagall sighed.

"Miss Granger, as Prefect I expect you to locate and confiscate that book, and then hand it in to myself or the Headmaster _at a suitable point_." Hermione was startled at her words, but then a look of gratitude crossed her face as the meaning of her words sunk in. "Do what you can for him."

"What about Draco?" Susan asked quietly, as if afraid to bring the ferret up.

McGonagall's face hardened. "I'll have words with young Mister Malfoy." She looked down at the wand that lay on her desk: Draco's.

"Firstly, make sure that you can keep track of Harry's movements. We may need to confine him very quickly."

As the three girls left her office, McGonagall allowed herself to slump back against her desk. She passed a hand over her eyes. "Oh Mister Potter, will you ever be free of trouble?"

* * *

Ginny was sat chatting with her friends from her own year, talking up her role at the Ministry. Whilst she didn't say what actually happened down there – the need for secrecy had been impressed into her very strongly by Dumbledore – that did nothing to stop her making the most of her involvement.

Nearby, Neville sighed to himself. He thought Ginny was very pretty, but her current behaviour was almost repulsive. Ron was sat close to Ginny, nodding dumbly at everything she said. Neville didn't know if it was due to lingering effects of the brain thing that attacked him, or the fact that he was staring at Lavender Brown.

And there was another factor. He wasn't sure if Ginny even knew she was doing it, but she was belittling Hermione's involvement whenever she could. As Neville respected Hermione greatly, he felt disgusted.

The common room door eased open, and Neville looked across to see the witch in question slip in. Ginny didn't though: her back was to the door. Neville waved Hermione over.

"Neville, has Harry been through here?" There was a note of worry in her voice.

Neville nodded. "He came in a little while with Ron. But he started acting odd, staring at the girls. A few minutes later he rushed upstairs, I guess to the dormitory." He looked at her in concern. "What's going on with him?"

Hermione sighed. "The curse Draco landed on him is a mind altering one. It'll make him want to… do things. I just know he's going to attempt to isolate himself, to protect everyone while he fights it off." Hermione didn't add the rest. She frowned suddenly, glancing over towards Ginny, where several other students had gasped. She looked back towards Neville, an eyebrow raised.

"I know." Neville sighed. "She's been going on for ages. From the way she tells the tale, it was her alone who got us all out."

Hermione looked over towards Ginny again, and after a few moments sighed. Most of the younger girl listeners had noticed that she was there, and had slightly worried looking expressions on their faces as they wondered what Hermione was going to do. Ginny, of course, thought that they were expressing worry for her in the story.

"Ignore it Neville."

"But Hermione, she's slandering you..." Neville began to object.

"It doesn't matter." Hermione said sadly. "The last thing I need is publicity. All that matters right now is curing Harry before it's too late." With that she strode towards the stairs that led to the boys dormitories.

Neville would ponder for years to come whether it was by accident or design that she walked right by Ginny as she did so. Ginny had just started to speak again, once more making more of her own contributions, when the older girl walked by close enough to touch. Ginny's voice died off as she realised just who had swept past. Hermione however paid the rapidly paling redhead no mind. Instead she was focused totally on reaching Harry. She didn't even hear the second set of footsteps behind her. Reaching the Fifth Years door, she knocked.

"Harry, you in there?"

Silence was her answer. She sighed.

"Harry, I know you're in there." She tried the door, but it wouldn't open.

Sighing once more, she drew her wand. "_Alohamora._"

The door opened a little, and she slipped inside. Within she found Harry standing by his bed, staring out of the window with his hands gripping the sill.

"Harry..." She began, taking a step forwards.

"Hermione, don't." Harry's words stopped her. He didn't speak angrily, or sharply. Instead there was a desperate plea in them. "It's... best that you don't come near me for a bit."

Hermione nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "I understand Harry. I know what Draco's curse is doing to you." His head turned a little, letting her know he was surprised. "Daphne told me. She's read about the spell before."

Harry's hands gripped the sill even tighter as she said her friend's name, and his breathing hitched a little. After a long moment he spoke again. "That's... good, Hermione. So you... know how to deal with... it."

Hermione bit her lip. "Not yet Harry. But I'll find a way to cure you, before..." She trailed off, hesitant to actually say the words.

"...Before I jump on you, or some other girl, and..." Harry finished for her, an embarrassed note in his tone.

Hermione longed to comfort him, even something as simple as laying a hand on his shoulder. But she knew that such an action could shatter what self control he had. So she'd had to use words alone. "Just hold on Harry. I'll sort this out."

A half chuckle escaped from Harry's mouth. "You always do." She could tell he was smiling slightly. His tone turned serious. "I trust you Hermione, far more than I trust anyone else. I know you won't rest until you've solved this problem." There was pure gratitude and warmth in his words, making her heart lurch. Oh, how she longed to wrap her arms around him!

"Don't worry Harry, I'll find the answer. You just keep yourself collected, and I'll free you." With that she turned and exited the dorm.

Stepping into the corridor she pulled the door to, and turned to return to the Common Room... only to find the way was blocked. "Ron! You startled me."

There was a dark look on Ron's face. "So I'm the one laid up in the Hospital Wing, but you're all concerned for Harry?" There was a note in his voice that she had never heard before.

Hermione rolled her eyes without even thinking. "Ron, we were both injured, myself the worst if you recall. But Harry's lost Sirius! Our pain is nothing compared to his!"

A confused look entered Ron's eyes. "Oh, yeah right." He then looked at her again. "Say Hermione... I'd say we got pretty close with all this ministry stuff and all. We kicked Death Eater ass!" He took a step closer to her, crowding her. "I'd say that calls for a celebration..." He started to slide an arm round her.

"Ron!" Hermione pushed away his arm and stepped back and to the side. "This is no time for any kind of... celebration! Harry's been cursed by Malfoy, and we need to help him!"

Ron snorted. "Harry'll come through this, just like he always come through." There was a note of jealousy in his tone now. "Always gets everything doesn't he, 'our' Harry. Gets into the Tournament last year, and wins. Has heaps of money, swarms of fan girls..."

"When he's not being ridiculed!" Hermione snapped sharply, now quite cross with her red-haired friend. "And you've skimmed right over all the horrible things he has to put up with! But this is neither the time nor the place to discuss this." She started to step past Ron to head down to the Common Room.

Ron's arm shot ahead of her, catching her across the stomach. Hermione gasped as pressure was applied to the lower end of the mark that ran diagonally across her body... the mark left by the curse that had taken her down at the Ministry. Pomfrey had lifted the curse, but she had warned Hermione that the skin would be tender – and weak – where the mark was for a week of two afterwards.

"Ron!" Hermione snapped, looking up at him with a mixture of anger and worry.

Ron stared down at her with an unreadable expression. "Why do you always put Harry over me huh? Harry's the bloody 'Chosen One', he doesn't need help! I'M the one you're always flirting with!"

"WHAT?" Hermione half screeched. "Flirting? Since when?"

Ron looked confused. "Ever since we arrived here, at Hogwarts. People always say we 'argue like an old married couple'. That's a sign of, you know... tension, between us."

Hermione snorted. "The only 'tension' between us is caused by your idiocy! And as for that saying..." she rolled her eyes again. "...that is one of the most ridiculous expressions around! Now..." She tried to compose herself. "...Step aside so I can go to the Library. I need to find a way to save Harry."

Ron scowled, but did step aside. Hermione quickly moved off, not looking back once. If she had, she might have heard Ron muttering to himself.

"You're mine Hermione. Harry's not having you too!"


	2. Dangerous Games

A/N: I was gonig to wait another week to post this, but with the heartening response from everyone, I decided to treate all of you.

A quick word about the subject of rape, which a few of you mentioned. No, _Harry_'s not ging to rape anyone. Nor is anyone _going_ to be raped, current tense. There _will_ be _attempted_ rape, and mention of successful attacks happening in the past (mainly in this chapter). I hope that eases all your concerns.

* * *

Susan was already sat at 'their' table in the Library, tucked away in a corner no one else visited, when Hermione arrived. As she sat down, Susan could tell that Hermione was hacked off by something. And knowing her as Susan did, there were only a few things that could get her this annoyed.

"Ron being a pain again?" She asked, picked the more obvious one.

Hermione looked up sharply, then sighed and slumped in her seat a little. "Yes. He's suddenly acting very possessive and demanding. It's like he's lost some of his intelligence after... what happened."

Susan couldn't help but smile. "What intelligence?"

Hermione chuckled along with her. She _really _didn't feel like defending Ron right now.

Looking beyond her, Susan could see a tall blond walking their way, a thick dark book held close to the chest. She smiled as Daphne approached, but it quickly fell away when she saw the expression on her friends face. "Daph', what's the matter?"

Hermione too looked round, and felt a small gasp escape her mouth. Daphne looked close to tears. Wordlessly she guided her round to sit between herself and Susan. They both leaned close, offering support.

After a few second Daphne spoke. "I... had a hunch, that Draco would not have returned the book. So... I went into his Dorm and retrieved it." She allowed the book to tip forwards a bit. The motion revealed that her tie was crocked, the neckline of her jumper torn.

"What happened?" Hermione asked carefully.

Daphne sniffed. "He came back as I was about to exit. Asked what I was doing. When I told him I needed to look at this book, he agreed to lend it to me... for a price." She hung her head a little more. "And then he groped me."

Susan gasped, while Hermione paled. Then her eyes narrowed. "He's not going to get away with this!"

Daphne looked up, tears in her eyes. "No Hermione, he will. You see... I never told you two this, but he's been trying to get into my pants ever since the beginning of Third Year.

"The rules are different down there. Unlike the other houses, the boys can enter the girl's rooms down there. And..." She shivered. "They do. Frequently.

"Ever since the beginning, I've heard things. That house is run by power, with those who come from the oldest, noblest and most politically powerful families having the power in the Common Room. And those who are the children of suspected or proven Death Eaters have absolute rule. It's a small section of the House, mainly Malfoy and his group, but the power they hold is total. The others, those not in that group... they're not bad people. But they are terrified. The last one to protest..." She shook her head, clearly unwilling to even say what happened.

"Down there, those students think it's perfectly acceptable to order the others around, to do whatever they want." Daphne seemed to fold in on herself, reluctant to continue.

Susan rubbed her friends back as she held her, trying to comfort her. Hermione also had an arm round her, but her thirst for knowledge drove her to ask. She had to know.

"Like what? What things are they made to do?" Daphne's breath hitched, then she answered in a voice so low it was almost a whisper.

"Sex. They have to do sexual favours."

Susan froze, her face white as a sheet. Hermione gasped in horror.

"I never had to do it, but I've heard of the younger girls being forced to give older boys blowjobs." Daphne continued, seemingly unaware of their shock. "Hand-jobs or posing nude are also common.

"Once you reach Third Year though, anything goes. Most hold off of full sex until you enter your Third Year, though again I've heard that one of the boys couldn't wait and fucked a first year."

Hermione was horrified. She reached down and pulled Daphne's chin up. "Ha..have you..." she asked haltingly.

Daphne shook her head. "No. I... I used a few charms my mother taught me and my sister to... keep them away." Fresh tears broke out as her head sunk down again. "But I could hear them. Draco, Goyle and Crabbe would come into my dorm, hard and eager. I'd have my curtains closed and with the charms cast on them, keeping them away. But Pansy and Millicent... those two hussies were _eager _for them. I could hear everything as those three screwed them both for hours." She shivered. "Sometimes... I even peered out, and I could watch them doing each of them.

"Draco never sullied himself with them. It seems between them they have decided who belongs to who. But he will get them to suck him off while they are banged by his henchmen.

"Outside the dorm, I've had to think quickly to avoid getting raped by Draco or any of the others. This year has been the worst. Usually I hurry through, ignoring anyone who calls my name." She sobbed. "But I've been forced a few times to pleasure one or two with my mouth."

Hermione was indigent. "How can Professor Snape allow this to happen?"

Daphne looked at her sharply, pain filling her eyes. "Snape was one of the ones I've had to blow!" She half cried. Tears streamed from her eyes. Susan pulled her close, guiding her head to rest on her own breast. Hermione scooted over, embracing them both. Both she and Susan had tears in their eyes now.

"I had just been cornered by Flint, forced to my knees, when the door opened. Draco was sat in one of the couches, his hand holding a first years head in his lap, his dick shoved down her throat. I look over to see Snape walk in, looking as twisted as ever. I thought, hoped, that he'd put a stop to all this, save me and the little girl.

"Instead he starts to tell Draco to come with him, but when he sees what Draco's doing, he amends it to 'later'. Then he tells him to let the girl pull back a bit to breath every now and again. He didn't want to have to explain why there was a dead student with cum down her throat in the middle of the common room. Then he sees me, and he sneers like he does, and says 'Ah, Miss Greengrass. About time you shared your virtues.' Then he comes over, and motions Flint to step aside. He..." Daphne swallowed, and sucked in a deep breath. "...then he exposes his own cock, and forces that into my mouth."

The three sat together, the book they had come to study forgotten. Susan slowly rocked her body back and forth, holding Daphne to her as she cried her eyes out. Hermione held onto them both, her tears falling unheeded onto Daphne's back and Susan's arm. She couldn't imagine the pain and suffering her friend had been forced to endure.

"I'm sorry Daph', I'm so sorry..." Susan whispered after a couple of minutes. Daphne murmured something, but neither of them could make it out.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked.

"I won't go back." Daphne spoke a little more clearly. "After I managed to get away from Draco, I returned to the Common Room. I found the rest of them, waiting for me. Crabb and Goyle moved to restrain me, but I had my wand out before they could reach me. I reached the door, but Draco called out before I could leave." She paused for a moment.

"He said 'When you come crawling back, you are going to pay your due.' The other boys were grinning at that. I knew, right then, that as soon as I stepped back in there, I'd never make it to my bunk." She shuddered. "I don't care what happens to me now. I'm not ever going back in there. I'll die first."

"It won't come to that." Hermione told her with absolute certainty in her voice. Turning her head, she spied the book sat on the desk before them. Sighing deeply in frustration, she eased back on her hug on the other two. "But right now, let's focus on helping Harry, otherwise none of us will be safe."

The other two looked at her bleary eyed, and then nodded. Pulling apart, they both watched as Hermione pulled the book closer to her and opened the cover.

* * *

Three hours, and several hundred notations, scribbles and crossings out later, Hermione threw down her quill in disgust. "This is so frustrating! It's as if the creators of this spell designed it to be incurable!"

They had gone through the book twice, and the section concerning the curse used on Harry at least a half dozen. Daphne had, in order to get her mind off her experiences in the Slytherin Common Room, tried to arithmetically break the spell down and analysis it. To be fair to her she had managed to do so for the bulk of the spell, but there were several 'blocks' where she lacked the knowledge to proceed.

Susan, at the same time, had focused on the wand movements and the actual incantation. The words themselves could contain power, but she had had less success than Daphne.

Hermione had put her brain to full use, and had looked at the history of the spell, searching for any case where it had been used, and how it had finally been broken. Sadly, it had been as Daphne had said. In every case, the cursed wizard had become consumed by the curse, and had been killed in the end to end his suffering... and that of everyone around him.

When witches were the victims, not all of them had died. But all of them had done extensive damage to their bodies as they degenerated into uninhibited lust filled animals, their only existence being to fuck anything around them. Food, sleep, hygiene… everything was cast aside and forgotten in their lust. Most had died from malnutrition, or had inadvertently killed themselves in the process, tearing their own insides apart. The few that hadn't had been kept alive by those wizards around them, to keep their 'perfect fuck toy'. Hermione's blood had boiled at that part!

Daphne sighed in exhaustion. "You have to remember Hermione, it's more than likely the writers of this book had no morals. They would have enjoyed watching the chaos such a spell would cause, and not want it to be cured easily."

Susan thumbed through the earlier portion of the book, where the less offensive spells were. "You have to admit that some of these other spells are quite... tempting, for people our age." She said with a slight flush to her cheeks.

Hermione blushed too, thinking about some of the possibilities those spells suggested. All kinds of body modification spells, from tame 'enlargement' types all the way to the kinky, bizarre ones. She'd practically choked on her tongue when she'd found the one that caused the targeted person to grow a temporary, extra penis. She had been unable to stop reading about the uses of that spell!

She considered herself fortunate that Draco had not used some of these spells on her already. She knew she'd have died of embarrassment if he'd cast the 'Uncontrolled Breast Enlargement' spell on her! Much as she often thought her 'assets' were undersized and small, she didn't want to be busting out of her clothes in seconds!

Before they could make any other comment, Madam Pince came over. "Time you three returned to your dormitories."

Daphne's face went white as a sheet at those words. Susan, seeing her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Hermione gathered up all their notes and bits of parchment. Holding the book close to her, she joined the other two as they walked out of the Library.

Daphne waited until they were several steps away from the Library door before speaking.

"I'm not going back Hermione. I won't go back." Her voice was an even mixture of desperation and determination.

"You won't have to." Hermione told her, thinking hard. Nodding to herself, she looked back at them. "Come on."

She led them back to Gryffindor Tower, using the shortest, safest routes that she had learned over the last five years. Pausing out of sight of the portrait, she turned to face the other two.

"I need to get something from within. Wait here." With that she stepped around the corner and up to the portrait.

"Out late again Miss Granger?" The Fat Lady looked down at her, one eyebrow raised.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and gave the password. Once inside, she started to move towards the stair leading to her dormitory, but paused when she saw the outline of someone sat in the couch before the fire. Even from the outline, she knew who it was.

"Harry?" She asked, placing the bundle she held onto a table.

Harry stiffened. "Hermione..." he trailed

"Why aren't you up in your bunk?" She asked, walking closer.

"I was..." He began. She could hear him breathing deeply. "Semus was going on and on about how various girls in our year stack up. He was comparing Lavender and Susan Bones, and..." He hung his head. "I just had to get away from that."

"Harry, I know it's hard..." She said as she stepped around the end of the couch. Harry seemed to cringe at her words. _'Why's he... OH!' _She flushed bright red. _'Note to self: do not refer to anything as "hard" until he's cured!' _She kneeled down besides him. "...But you have to keep fighting. I'll find a way to help you. Don't give up."

Harry at last looked at her, and she took a sharp breath. His eyes were filled with lust, desire and fear, emotions that she had rarely seen there. "Hermione..." He almost crooned as his hand drifted out to her shoulder, before running up her neck and into her hair. Hermione had to suppress a shiver from running through her, but there was no denying her own suddenly spiking desire. She couldn't stop herself tipping her head into his hand a little.

She could hear his slow, heavy breathing, and it excited her. A tiny gasp escaped her lips when she realised that her own underwear was wet. Hermione had accepted that she loved Harry over a year ago, and had been since sometime around Christmas Third Year. Every time she pictured the future, he was there. There was nothing she wouldn't do for him. And she was honest with herself enough that if he were to take her, here and now, she wouldn't fight him.

In fact, she realised, she'd edge him on, encourage him!

Harry suddenly screwed his eyes shut, pulled his hand away. Hermione was startled as he stood and walked over to stand by the fire, leaning against the wall.

On shaky legs Hermione rose up and moved to stand besides him. "Harry..." She started gently, her instinct overcoming her sense. She laid a hand on his shoulder.

In a blur of motion Harry acted, and the next second Hermione found herself pressed with her back to the smoothed stone wall, Harry stood bare a few inches in front of her, his hands pressed on the wall either side of her head, hemming her in. He was breathing heavily, and so was she.

For a long minute they stood like that, both staring into each others eyes. Then Harry bowed his head, closing his eyes as he did. His forehead stopped barely an inch from her collarbone, and she would have sworn that she could feel the heat from him burning through her clothing.

"I'm sorry Hermione... I... I think you'd best stay away from me." Harry drew back and with a heavy air began to walk towards the boy's staircase.

He had almost reached it when Hermione got her voice back. "Harry, wait!"

He stopped, but didn't turn around.

"I need to borrow your cloak Harry, for a little while." She rushed out breathlessly.

Harry was silent for a moment, then slumped. "Okay. I'll just... go get it."

After he had disappeared up the steps, Hermione exhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down. The intensity of her feelings scared her a little, but the fear had been drowned out by her excitement! She was going to have to watch herself, as well as him!

Hearing footsteps she shook herself, trying to get her mind back on the task at hand. Harry emerged from the stairs, his Cloak bundled up in his hands. He laid it down on the back of a chair, not looking at her.

"Thank you Harry." She said kindly. Harry's mouth quirked as if he were going to smile, but he said nothing. Only turned around and returned to his bunk.

Moving quickly, Hermione scoped up the cloak before she pushed out the Common Room door and headed down the corridor, the Fat Lady's comments ignored. She found Susan and Daphne where she had left them. "About time!" Susan snapped. "We nearly got caught by Flich." She shivered, a sight that many of the male students in the castle would have wanted to see. "What took so long?"

"Sorry. Harry was in the Common Room." She tried to keep her voice level, but some emotion escaped her control.

The other two picked up on her tones, and shared a quick look. Then Daphne spoke. "How is he?"

Hermione's shoulders slumped. "Hanging on, for now. But I don't know how much longer even he can contain it. It's barely been a day!"

Daphne sighed. "The more powerful the wizard, the greater the rate of increased lust. I'm impressed he's kept it together this long myself." She looked down at the cloak that Hermione held. "What is that?"

Hermione looked at the folded cloak in her arms. "You're means of reaching a bunk unmolested."

Susan emitted a soft gasp. "An invisibility cloak!"

Hermione nodded. "Harry's. Its how we've been able to do some of our adventures."

"Why?" Daphne asked.

"There are two spare bunks in my dormitory. You can use one of them tonight. We can ask one of the house elves to bring you your clothes."

Susan shared a look with Daphne again, longer this time. "What?" Hermione asked, wondering what they were thinking.

Susan breathed deeply. "Hermione... It's about the House Elves. They... they're shunning you."

Hermione was stunned. "What?"

Susan looked at her, sympathy and regret in her eyes. "It's because of your SPEW campaign. They find it... well, horrifying."

"What?" Hermione was stunned. "How? Why?"

"Their afraid that if the headmaster follows your lead, he'll dismiss them all. And once that happens..." Susan trailed off. "House Elves need work, need to be owned, like we need air."

Hermione was flabbergasted. "But... what about Dobby? He was overjoyed when Harry tricked Lucius into freeing him."

Daphne sighed. "He was bound to the Malfoy's. I expect not even the most dedicated House Elf could stand being their slave. And no offence to him Hermione, but I don't think he's complete sane."

Hermione's shoulders slumped. "I've made a right mess, haven't I?"

Susan smiled sadly. "You had the best intentions Hermione. But you have to remember, the Wizarding world is still far behind the muggle world in many things. You saw an injustice, and set out to correct it. But the Wizarding world is so slow to change, it's like a glacier. What you were trying to alter is something that's been the same for over a thousand years now, and is against House Elf nature."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but a noise in the corridors made all three of them jump. After looking around, she faced the other two.

"We'd best be going. Susan, will you be okay making it to your Common Room?" She asked as she handed the cloak to Daphne.

Susan nodded quickly, not quite trusting her voice. She squeezed Daphne's shoulder once, then turned and moved away.

Hermione turned to look at Daphne as she draped the cloak about herself. As she was pulling the front closed, Hermione asked. "Remember, stay close."

Daphne nodded then reached over head and pulled the hood over, completely covering herself.

Hermione turned, squared her shoulders, and for the second time marched up to the portrait.

"Oh, back again so soon." The Fat Lady commented, looking her over. "Can't have been up to much, too neat..."

"Oh honestly." Hermione groaned.

Collecting her stack of notes from the table where she had dumped them earlier, Hermione led the way up the stairs to the Fifth Year girl's dormitory. Pushing the door open, she looked at the two occupied beds. Both Pavarti and Lavender were asleep.

"Come on." She whispered, before stepping aside. Waiting for a count of ten, she held the door open before closing it softly. Turning, she watched as Daphne exposed her face before looking around. Her gaze settled on the window, prompting a sigh.

"Where did you have in mind?"

Like all Hogwarts dormitories, there were five beds arrayed in a circle, with the door to the corridor outside taking the place of the sixth. Parvarti and Lavender had taken the pair on the left end, while Hermione had the one that was opposite them. With only three Gryffindor girls, that left two beds, the one to the right of the door and the one opposite it, free.

Stopping next to the end bed, Hermione quickly freed the drapes and started to make the sheets. Daphne quickly helped, after freeing herself from the cloak.

"How are you planning on hiding the fact that the bed is occupied?" Daphne whispered worriedly.

Hermione just shrugged. "I'll cast a charm on the drapes so that the bed becomes a mirror of the other one."

Daphne paused. "You can do that?"

Hermione looked at her strangely. "Yes."

Daphne let it go. She knew that she shouldn't really be surprised that Hermione could cast NEWT level spells any more.

Slipping into the bed, she began to pull the drapes closed. As Hermione began to tug on the last one though, Daphne held out a hand.

"Thank you for this. I owe you."

Hermione smiled shyly at her. "It's what's right." She said before closing the drape.

Drawing her wand as she stepped back, Hermione quickly and quietly cast the spell. The drapes shimmered for a moment, and then the central bed seemed to reappear in its place. She frowned, then adjusted the spell a little. The shadows shifted, until she lifted her wand, happy with the adjustment. Sighing, she prepared for bed.

As she laid down, her eyes came to rest on the dark book resting on her dresser. She'd made sure to place the notes to hide the cover from the others: she didn't what either of those two flirts getting their hands on the contents. Who knew what they might do?

But still, the issue of Harry weighed heavily on her mind. There _had _to be a way to help him!

There just had to!


	3. Chasing a Cure

A/N: After I posted the last chapter, I was a little disheartened to get a number of (apprently) negatively slnated reviews. But I've got over a dozen positive ones since, and I found something interesting... This story is on the most favourites lists of any of my stories, and is in more C2s and Alert lists than my others combined. I must be doing something right!

Now, a lot of reviews raised concerns abotu the 'rape' angle. All I can say is: Trust me. Once we get past the first few chapters (I'm aiming for monthly updates, to give me time to write) then things will turn into a more 'normal' AU-6th year. The curse will be explained in more detail... later. Once the characters have a chance to catch their breathes.

Harry won't become a rapist. Draco is, but don't worry, I have 'plans' for him... (those of you who have read my other stories should be shuddering now...XD)

Oh, and apologies to those of you who like Hermiones dorm-mates for the first scene... they will grow up, eventually...

* * *

-|-

* * *

Next morning, Hermione got herself ready, and then sat on her bed, reading through the book again, while she waited for the other two to finish pampering themselves and leave.

"Oh Hermione, you are still studying?" Lavender cried as she looked over at her bookworm dorm-mate. "It's the end of the year! Exams are OVER. It's time for some fun!"

Hermione looked up slowly. "I know they're over. I'm looking over _next year's _text."

Parvati looked horrified. "You serious? You're revising for _next year now_?"

"You know what she needs?" Lavender cut in. "She needs a boyfriend."

"More than that, she needs to get laid." Parvati countered, at which both of them descended into giggles.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "There's more important things in life than sex, Parvati."

Lavender put on a serious look. "There is NOTHING more important than sex, Hermione. You'd know that, if you got some." She tutted. "And you never will if you don't get out, dress up and have some fun!"

"What, become like you?" Hermione countered sharply. "No thank you."

"Fine!" Lavender turned to regard herself in the mirror. With summer dawning, she had started wearing tighter, more revealing clothing. Hermione couldn't help but watch, out of the corner of her eye, as she looked at her side profile, then faced the mirror and leaned forwards. A disappointed look crossed her face. "I wish I had Susan's rack though."

Hermione suppressed a cough. One of the spells in the book in her lap _could _do just that, and then some!

Parvati looked across at Lavender, who was still posing. "Oh, stop that! We've got to get to breakfast and see whose eye we can catch today! Maybe you can get Harry to notice you..." She smiled.

Lavender snorted, in a very unladylike fashion. "Oh, he's still mopping over Cho Chang. The bitch! Storming out of Madam Puddlifoots like that!"

Parvati smirked. "Okay, so who are you aiming for then?"

Lavender cocked her head, considering. "Ronald."

Parvati gasped. "Mister 'thicker-than-two-gnomes' Ron Weasley? Why? He's a dork!"

Normally Hermione would have defended Ron, but after his actions yesterday, she didn't feel like it. Besides, she agreed with Parvati's assessment of Ron's mental capabilities.

"Oh, I agree he ain't got much up top..." Lavender tapped the side of her head. "...But he likes a show." She leaned forwards again, exposing her cleavage. "And he's likely packing a good hunk of meat in those pants."

"How you figure that?"

Lavender smirked at Parvati's question. "He's got six siblings, remember? Mom must have liked his dads' dick, if she allowed him to bang her enough to have seven kids! And from that..." She trailed off, grinning. Parvarti laughed as she got it.

"That is just disgusting Lavender!" Hermione snapped.

Lavender looked coolly at her. "Oh shut up miss straight-laced. You'd likely not know what to do with one without a guide book!"

Shocked, Hermione fell silent. Meanwhile, Lavender turned back to Parvati. "What about you? Who you eyeballing?"

Parvati played with a scarf. "I don't know. Maybe Dean..."

"Ahh..." Lavender cooed, tucking her arm through Parvati's as they moved towards the door. "You know what they say about black men..."

Hermione groaned as the door closed on their giggles. Closing the book, she slid out and stepped towards the bed to her left. Looking at the image, she smiled slightly. The shadows were not quite right, but it clearly had fooled the other two. If they had disturbed the drapes, the illusion would have broken.

"_Finite Incantum._" She said, pointing her wand at the bed. The illusion vanished to reveal the drape enclosed bed. Pocketing her wand, Hermione pulled back the closest drape slowly.

Daphne was lying in the bed, the sheets partly folded down. She looked up at her with her pale blue eyes. "They always like that?" She asked with sympathy.

Hermione shrugged. "Most of the time no. I guess it's just the end of term."

As Daphne stretched and sat up, Hermione noted that she had shed her clothes during the night. Her skirt, shoes, socks and robes were piled at the foot of the bed, Harry's cloak on the other side. Close to Hermione lay her bra.

Idly curious, Hermione found herself picking up the undergarment. It was simple, white and conservative, much as she'd expect from a purely wizarding family. Turning it over, she found the label. **'32B'**

Hermione nodded to herself when she saw that. She was a 34C herself, and as Daphne had a slimmer figure than her...

"Not that impressive, is it?" Hermione looked down to see Daphne smirking up at her. Flushing crimson, she handed the bra over.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. It's natural to check out the competition." Daphne said as she let the sheet fall as she took the bra. "I wouldn't bother with these things if I was any smaller, but I'm at that point where I need the support." She commented as she slipped it on.

Hermione frowned. "We're not competing for anything."

Daphne smiled sadly at her. "Hermione, if I had been placed into any other house, I'd have made a play for Harry myself." She let her arms fall onto the bed as she looked at Hermione seriously. "Be honest Hermione: you love him."

Hermione opened her mouth to deny it... but the words wouldn't come out, because she knew that she'd be lying. And from the look in her eyes, Daphne would too.

She sunk onto her own bed, hanging her head. "How obvious is it?"

Daphne's expression softened. "Only to me and Susan, really. And those skilled at reading people." She reached out and took Hermione's hand in her own. "Even I didn't see it until the first article by Rita last year. After that, I looked closer, and I realised what has been going on between you two for the last five years." She smiled. "You do make a lovely couple."

Hermione blushed again. "Thanks. But I'm not his type."

Daphne looked at her sharply. "How do you figure that?"

"He chased Cho for over a year..."

"Hermione, Cho is just a pretty face with a flair for display." Daphne cut her off. "As a person, she was totally wrong for him."

Hermione sighed. "Let's just get back to trying to find a way to cure him, before he breaks?" Daphne recognised the evasive tactic for what it was, but decided to let her go. For now.

Next time, she decided as she pulled her shirt back on, she'd have Susan to back her up.

* * *

Harry gasped for air as he all but ran out of the dining hall. He come down early and wolfed down some breakfast, hoping to be able to leave before any females came down too. Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were sat at the professors table, but he was able to put their feminine status out of his mind due to their age.

His problems started when a crowd of Ravenclaws came in, mostly girls. He'd had stared at his plate to keep his mind off their young, nubile bodies.

He'd almost finished wolfing down his remaining eggs when Ginny had sauntered in and sat herself at his side. Try as he might, he couldn't ignore the fact that under her robes she was wearing a short skirt and a tight, V-necked top. He'd chanted to himself in his head _'She's Ron's little sister. She's Ron's little sister.'_ Over and over, but his body began to betray him. Mumbling his apologies, he'd rushed out as fast as he could without revealing his... condition.

'_She can't know about the curse. That has to be why she's acting the way she is...'_ he thought as he tried to regain some control. He'd known about her infatuation of him ever since he'd first met her. It had been damn annoying for the first two years, and even last year he'd not really known her.

Her involvement in the DA this year had seemed to mark her pulling back, no longer so enamoured of him, and he'd welcomed that. At last he'd gotten to know the youngest Weasley.

But that little display... It looked like she hadn't given up her fantasy at all. Now Harry was worried, since even if - WHEN, he corrected himself – he was freed of this blasted curse, he knew he'd have to watch her carefully, not show any signs of responding.

He glanced down, scowling. Right now any passing being would know how his body felt! He closed his eyes and tried to picture something horrid. _'Umbridge... no, she's a woman!... Snape. Snape in drag... women's clothing... women's clothing on slinky girls... No, no no!'_ Harry groaned and banged his head against the wall.

"Harry! What's wrong?"

'_Oh no, not here Hermione, not now!'_ Harry opened his eyes... and immediately shut them again, groaning. Hermione was coming down the stairs quickly, her worried filled eyes fixed on him. At the top of the stairs behind her had been Daphne Greengrass and Susan Bones. It looked like the three of them had been together when they'd caught sight of Harry.

He turned away as Hermione came close. "Hermione..." He groaned. "You should really keep away..."

"I know. Sorry." She winced. "I'm just... concerned, about you."

Harry sighed. "I'm hanging on. Barely." He looked up briefly. "You've got to keep everyone away from me."

Hermione's face fell, and Harry felt terribly guilty. He never, ever wanted to hurt her. Hermione's trust and friendship meant so much to him. He honestly didn't know what he would have done these last five years without her there by his side. And although he didn't like to admit it, he knew deep down that even though Ron had been his first friend, Hermione had replaced him in his heart. He could have survived losing Ron, but not her. Never her.

Hermione nodded after a moment. "I understand Harry. I'm not going to stop looking for a cure for this. Don't give up."

Despite everything, Harry found a smile forcing its way onto his lips. "Have I ever?"

Hermione gave one short bark of laughter. "No, you never have."

* * *

"I'm worried about her."

Daphne looked askew at her friend Susan. They were both sat at one end of 'their' table, Hermione at the other. It had been her who had driven them to continue looking for a cure for Harry. It had been two days since Harry had been cursed, and somehow he was still holding on, in control of his desires. It had been clear that the curse was getting to him; that he had to fight harder and harder to remain in control. He'd stopped coming to lessons this morning, instead holing up in his dormitory. And he hadn't been seen in the dining hall again, much to the clear disappointment of Ginny.

But nothing had come up, despite all their increasingly frantic research. There was nothing, no spell, potion or plant that could handle the raw power of this curse. Hermione had however determined why this curse had never been cured before: The curse enflamed _natural _desires. Most curses worked against a bodies natural instincts, or inflicted harm. Thus, they could be cured, as the cure worked with the body of the victim.

But this... it worked on the natural impulses, making them stronger, driving them harder. Any cure had to rein in those impulses. A much harder task.

"What do you mean?" Daphne asked quietly.

Susan nodded her head towards Hermione, whose face was buried in one book. The table space in front of her was covered in scraps of parchment, at least a dozen thick books and several muggle spiral notepads. "She's going to kill herself trying to find a way to cure Harry, you know. She's already obsessed with this. She's not eating as much as she did or should, and I know she's stayed up all night too." Susan sighed deeply, regretfully. "Harry's getting worse, isn't he?"

Daphne nodded glumly. "Yes. It's clear to everyone that he's got a problem, but nearly everyone is unsure what. He's not going to hold out much longer... not without going insane."

Susan looked at her in alarm, then back towards Hermione. "She really does love him, doesn't she? She knows what's wrong with him, how dangerous it is to be around him, and yet she still tries to reassure him, goes near him. That's love Daph', true, unconditional love." She sighed, her voiced filled with a range of emotions.

Daphne looked again at Hermione. She saw everything Susan had said in her. But in the back of her head she knew that time was not on their side.

The chime of the clock caused Susan to look at it, and she huffed in annoyance. "I've got to go. Professor Sprout 'asked' me to come by her office at seven."

Daphne smiled at her. "Good luck." But her smile faded as she looked back. Sighing in resignation, she stood up and walked over to Hermione. Reaching her side, she saw the one book was opened on one of the most potent potions: The Draught of the Living Dead.

"Hermione?" Daphne asked, concern colouring her tone.

"It may buy us some time." Hermione answered the unspoken question without looking up. "It would keep him asleep, immobile..." Her voice hitched at the end. There was desperation in her voice.

Daphne sank into the seat next to her friend. "Hermione... face it. There is no cure."

"No." Hermione stated with desperate conviction. "Every problem has a solution..."

"And how long will it take you to find the answer to this one?" Daphne countered, a little heat entering her words. "He can't hold out much longer Hermione. He's going to give in, within a day or two. Would you really keep him in a near death state for years, spending the rest of your life trying to cure something that's incurable?" Daphne paused before continuing. "Could you do it?"

Hermione was silent, a single tear running down her cheek. After a moment, she shook her head.

"Sometimes, even you have to yield." Daphne told her gently. "Some things can not be changed. This curse... it scares me partly because it is _so_ powerful. You can't fight it; you can only give in before it gets too great. Best thing we can do now is come up with a way to contain him, to protect ourselves and everyone else in the school."

Hermione's head bowed forwards, and Daphne felt like a monster for saying what she did. She looped an arm around the other girl, drawing her close.

"I know how you feel about him. In some respects, I feel the same. But we have to put our personal feelings aside for the moment, because he's going to be a danger to everyone in the school."

Hermione was crying openly now, and Daphne felt terrible. Wrapping her in both arms, Daphne rested her head on top of Hermione's, her own eyes feeling damp. It tore at her heart to see Hermione, such a strong, determined young woman, break down and cry. And guilt tore at her guts since she had been the one to cause this.

* * *

Hermione tossed and turned later that night, unable to sleep. Daphne's words echoed in her head, mixing with her desperation to help Harry. And although her words had been brutal Hermione knew, deep down, that they were true. There was no way to cure Harry of his curse. Everything she thought of, every avenue, led nowhere.

She closed her eyes and sniffed, tears rolling down her cheeks slowly. She felt like a failure. Her greatest strength was her brain, her intellect. And yet it was all for nought now. She'd help Harry overcome every problem in the past, but this time she'd failed.

Rolling onto her side, she looked across to the next bed. Daphne was once more sleeping in the bunk, still avoiding the Slytherin Quarters like the plague. After seeing some of the looks directed her way by Malfoy's group, Hermione didn't blame her.

Sighing, she began to roll the other way. _'If only there was a way to ease his...'_

Her mind came to a screeching halt, as did her body. The only thing that moved were her eyes, which widened rapidly as her mind turned over a new, sudden thought.

After a couple more seconds she threw off the covers, almost launching herself off the bed. Snatching up her wand, her hand darted into the space behind her dresser... where she had been keeping The Book.

"_Lumos_!" She whispered. Frantically she whipped through the book to the pages concerning the curse. Once there, she re-read the effects of the spell.

After a couple of minutes, she snorted and tossed the book back onto her bed. The information she needed was in the Library.

Steeling herself, she pulled on her dressing gown before padding down to the Common Room. She had almost reached the door when she paused. This would be dangerous and difficult, unless... She softly cursed herself for returning Harry's Cloak after getting Daphne settled.

With a shiver she turned and moved up the stairs that led to the boys Dormitories. She paused at the door to the Fifth Years, breathing rapidly.

"Okay, you can do this. Just walk in, get the map and cloak, then leave. Relax!" She whispered to herself before she took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

A chorus of snores almost stopped her dead, but she stepped onwards. As she neared Harry's bed, she found that she could tell how each boy snored. Neville was quiet, almost whimpering. Seamus and Dean were both regular, modest snores, though Dean's had a deeper note.

Ron, in contrast, was a loud, rumbling monster. Hermione couldn't help but glance at him as she passed. He'd left the drapes open, and was sprawled across the bed, one arm hanging out. She grimaced when she saw that his mouth was partly open and his tongue was lolling out.

It was then that she realised that no sound was coming from Harry's bed, which had the drapes closed.

"Harry?" She whispered as she stepped to the side. "Are you awake?" She reached for and pulled at the drapes.

Suddenly her hand was seized in a tight grip and dragged down the bed, pulled the drape open. Within was Harry, lying on top of the covers, looking at her intently. Hermione was startled at the intense look in his eyes, which she saw were filled with lust. His free hand came up and gently touched her collarbone before drifting to the front of her gown. Her breathing hitched when she felt his hand start gathering the material into a fist.

'_Has he given in?' _She wondered, looking into his eyes. Inside her head instincts and passion warred. Most of her instincts screamed at her to pull away, to retreat. And yet set against them were her own lust and passion, her love for Harry. Maybe, just maybe, if she let him take her now, he'd slack his lust for a time, giving her more time to find a cure...

Despite all the thoughts racing through her head, she knew that if he was to drag her into his bed and take her right now, she wouldn't resist. She loved him too much.

For a long moment Harry had a tight grip on the front of her robes, barely an inch from her breast. Her heart was beating so hard and fast she figured he could likely hear it...

His eyes closed slowly, and a low groan escaped his lips, the first sound he'd made. His tight grip on her clothing eased. "Damn it Hermione..." He spoke with frustration. "...You've got to stop coming near me. I can't control it much longer."

"I know Harry." She replied, dropped to her knees at his bedside, clasping his hand between her own. "You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, right?"

Although his eyes were still closed, Hermione could just see his mouth twitch as if to smile. "Yeah."

"Absolutely anything Harry." She squeezed his hand to reinforce her point. "If you wanted me to, I'd... I'd let you take me, right here, right now, if it helped you keep control..." She trailed off, seeing that he was shaking his head.

"You have no idea how appealing that sounds Hermione. But... I know that if I let go and... use you, like that..." Embarrassment coloured his voice. "... I'd never rein myself back in again. If I give in, I'll be unable to stop myself." At last he opened his eyes and looked at her. The lust from before was still there, but it was forced down, restrained. He looked at her pleadingly. "I... Hermione, you have to stay away. If I hurt you, I'd never forgive myself." He sighed, his eyes drifting closed again. "You'd best get as far away as you can. I can't hold on much longer..."

"I haven't given up yet Harry, so don't give up on me." Hermione cut him off, tightening her grip on his hand. "I'm still working on a way to cure you. You just keep fighting it." She paused, bowing her head a little. "That's... why I'm here. I need the cloak and map."

Harry nodded slightly, enough to let her know that he didn't need to know why she needed those items. "Bottom drawer, to your left."

Letting go with her left hand, she reached down and pulled the draw open. Reaching inside, her fingers touched silky cloth. Pulling it out, she draped the cloak across her knees before reaching in once more. It took a few moments for her to grasp the edge of the parchment. Harry looked at her again, a slight hint of panic in his eyes. "Don't let any of the teachers get hold of this, Snape especially."

"I won't Harry." Hermione promised before slowly standing upright again. She gripped his hand one last time. "Good night Harry."

"Good night, Hermione."

As he closed the drape again and she walked out, neither one of them noticed that one of the snorers had stopped snoring.

* * *

Next morning Susan and Daphne entered the Library almost in a rush. Hermione had not been in her bed that morning, her clothes untouched. Daphne had rushed to get dressed and slip out before any one else was awake: she'd borrowed one of Hermione's robes to cover the Slytherin colours on her jumper and tie. She had waited for Susan outside the Great Hall, after having checked that Hermione was not in there herself. Quickly the two of them figured out the most likely place their friend could be.

Moving through the Library, they rounded the corner to find what they feared; Hermione, sat at the table once more, books sprayed out on the table. She was dressed only in her night clothes and dressing gown, the cloak piled on the chair next to her.

"Hermione!" Susan hissed as they walked towards her. Startled, she glanced up before muttering something as she looked to the chair seat on her right. Then she looked up at them again.

"Hi. Er... what time is it?"

"Past breakfast!" Daphne told her as she settled down in a chair. "McGonagall's worried sick over you!"

Hermione looked taken aback, but then she looked down at what she had been working on. "Well... I guess it was worth it." She half whispered to herself.

"What do you mean?" Susan asked, concerned.

"I mean that I _think_ found a way to cure Harry, maybe." Hermione added without a lot of conviction as she gathered her notes together. Yawning, she picked up the cloak. "Could you return the books? I would, but..." She gestured to herself.

"Sure." Daphne replied before Susan could. Susan looked at her friend, ready to argue... but then saw the narrowed eyes.

"Thanks. I owe you both one." Hermione said before yawning again. Then she vanished as she draped the cloak about her.

Susan waited almost a minute before speaking. "Well?"

Daphne picked up one of the books. "She may have taken her notes, but she didn't close the books. Let's take a look at what she was reading..."

* * *

A/N: We're almost there. Fair warning, there will be a bout of unpleasentness next chapter involving Draco, but those of you who know my style should know by now that I don't let things get _too _bad.


	4. Desperate Measures

AN: *sighs* I shouldn't really be this good to you, but as tomorrow is the date I consider as Hermione's birthday...

Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, the main reason I'm uploading this now. I hope I can continue to keep you all entertained.

On that theme, I must warn you: This chapter is one of those 'dark' chapters. Both Malfoy and Ron are going to be acting up. It's also not a chapter for you if you like Ginny. And while I might redeem the Weasels, there's no redeeming Malfoy. They still have good in them, buried and/or suppressed though it is. There's none in Draco. Exactly WHAT I'll do to him is still up for debate...

* * *

Hermione slept right through the morning once she returned to her bunk. After freshening up, she headed down the stairs just after twelve. But the noise from below caused her to hurry her steps.

She found the whole of Gryffindor House milling around in the Common Room, with McGonagall standing by the door out with a terrified look on her face. In contrast, Ginny was looking annoyed as she sat on the couch by the fireplace.

Hermione threaded her way across the chamber. "Professor, what's going on?"

"Miss Granger, thank Merlin! You had us all worried this morning!" McGonagall looked down at her in relief, though the panic and fear in her eyes remained. As Hermione opened her mouth to explain, McGonagall waved her hand.

"No matter. We have a more serious problem." She glanced around before she leaned forwards a little. "Harry's on the edge. He nearly lost control." She whispered.

"WHAT?" Hermione nearly screamed, but then moderated her tone. "How?"

"It seems that Miss Weasley approached him shortly before lunch. Some of the students report that she was almost dragging him away with her. He came back a couple minutes later, looking frantic. He fled, seemingly in a panic. I had all students return to their Common Rooms, as a precaution, until we can find him." McGonagall explained.

'_Oh Ginny...'_ Hermione thought in exasperation. She had become friends with the younger girl, but her obsession with both Harry and Sex drove Hermione to distraction. It was all the young girl thought about. And with Harry in his current state...

"What do the other professors know?" Hermione asked quietly.

McGonagall looked her in the eye. "I told them that Harry has been cursed with a mood altering curse, making him unpredictable, maybe even violent. The Headmaster is currently out looking for him, along with the Prefects. The other Professors are either also searching or with their houses."

Hermione's sigh of relief from knowing that everyone was safe quick turned into panic as she remembered Daphne's situation. Her face paled as she thought of what could be happening to her friend right now.

"Professor... I need to get out there and find Da... er, Harry. I think I know of a way to cure him."

Minerva McGonagall was nobodies fool. She caught her star pupils slip of the tongue, and quickly realised there was someone else other than Harry that she was concerned about. She remembered Miss Greengrass from when they had told her about the curse on Harry.

She nodded. "Very well Miss Granger. But you are not going out alone. All the Prefects must be in pairs. Headmasters ruling."

'_I wonder whose watching his back?' _Hermione thought to herself. _'Or will be there to ensure that he treats Harry fairly?' _For some time now Hermione had entertained doubts about the Headmaster and his treatment of Harry's situations. Time and again, he could have stepped in and spared Harry from going through the hardships he had had, but he hadn't. And quite frankly, his record on hiring teachers left a lot to be desired.

"I'll be right back." Was all she said however as she moved back towards her room.

Returning to her dorm, she quickly gathered what she needed. Potion kit... Notebooks... Map...Cloak... She stuffed them all into her bag.

"Packing, already?" The words behind her made Hermione pause. She slowly turned to regard Ginny standing in the doorway, watching her, arms folded across her chest.

"I'm going out after Harry." Hermione explained.

"Why can't you leave him alone?" Ginny suddenly snapped angrily. "You're constantly hovering over him, mothering him. None of the rest of us get a chance with you constantly there! It's no wonder Cho dumped him!"

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed.

"You're preventing him from getting a real girlfriend Hermione!" Ginny waved her hand. "You, and your brain. He can't even snog someone with getting confused and needing to turn to you!"

"What did you do with him earlier?" Hermione asked coolly, a suspicion forming in her mind.

Ginny drew herself upright. "I thought, since he's been so down lately, that he needed a good snog to cheer him up. Something that _you _clearly wouldn't do for him! But when I finally get him somewhere we can have some privacy, he starts acting odd! One second trying to pull away, the next almost forcing himself on me. After a half minute, he pulls away, looking scared! Then he has the _gall_ to say your name!

"Well, I told him to wake up, your not here, I am! He looked at me oddly, then runs like hell itself is chasing him!"

Ginny now advanced menacingly. "Just what have you done to him, The Boy Who Lived, to make him such a scared little boy?"

"What _I've done_?" Hermione spoke quietly, stunned. After a moment she shook herself. "I don't have time to deal with you Ginny." Hermione stepped past the younger girl.

"Oh get real Hermione!" Ginny snapped as she spun around to glare at the older girls back. "He's never going to look twice at you!" Hermione stopped as Ginny ranted on. "You've got no figure, and you're a bookworm! There's nothing sexy about that!"

Hermione counted to ten in her head before turning around slowly. Ginny's confidence and bravado faded when she realised that Hermione had her wand in hand.

For a long moment neither girl spoke. Then Hermione sighed.

"You need to grow up Ginny. It's up to Harry who he finds attractive. Nobody can script his life out for him. Not you, not Dumbledore, not me." She pocketed her wand and looked sadly at the younger girl. "If you truly cared for _Harry_, you'd respect his needs, and try and help him overcome the loss he's suffered, instead of trying to get into his pants." With that Hermione turned and walked back down the stair sedately.

Left there, Ginny stood stock still, still trying to process what Hermione had said. She knew her words made sense, yet she couldn't believe it. All her life she'd been brought up to idolise the heroic 'Boy-Who-Lived'. When Molly had learned that Ronald had befriended him, the two Weasley women had started planning the wedding of Harry to Ginny. After her first year, when he'd so heroically rescued her, Ginny was convinced that they were destined to be together. She'd been in love with him ever since her mother told her the story of him, and she'd dreamed of being 'Mrs Ginny Potter' far more times than she could count. Even her boyfriends this year had all been solely to practice so that she could ensnare Harry Potter.

After several long seconds she stood tall and haughty once more. She'd get Harry, no matter the cost...

* * *

When Hermione returned to the door, she found Ron standing besides Professor McGonagall, looking very put out and disgruntled.

"Miss Granger, stay with Mister Weasley at all times until the situation is under control, understand?" McGonagall said firmly, eyeing her star pupil, hoping she got the hidden message she was sending. Though she didn't fail to notice the look on the youngest male Weasleys face...

"Yes Professor." Hermione answered quickly, her mind fixated on finding her friends... both of them. She did however let the corner of her mouth twitch, reassuring her Head of House that she understood the hidden message.

Slipping through the hole, they both found themselves in the empty halls. After the Portrait had closed, the silence quickly began to close in on them. Shivering, Hermione gripped her bag a little tighter. "Come on Ron." She said, starting to walk briskly. Ron tramped along loudly in her wake. He muttered as he did, but Hermione paid it no mind.

After a couple of minutes, they reached the main stairs. Stopping there, Hermione drew the map out and activated it. She began to intently look all over, hunting for two sets of footsteps.

Ron found Harry first. "There he is! At the top of the Astronomy Tower!" Sure enough, there were a set of foot prints wandering back and forth, with the image of a small strip of parchment bearing the name 'Harry James Potter' above it.

"What's he doing up there?" Ron wondered cluelessly, but Hermione barely noticed his words. She was still looking, more frantically now. She'd already checked the Slytherin chambers, and Daphne's names hadn't been in the crowd there. That meant she was still outside...

There! In a broom closest on the ground floor, a single, still pair of footprints. The nametag revealed that it was her. The area around her was crawling with the Slytherin Prefects, and Snape was close by...

Ron's hand suddenly pushed across her field of vision, folding the map up. She looked at him sharply. "Ron!"

"Relax Hermione." Ron told her, continuing to fold the map up absently. "We've done our bit, we've found Harry. Now we can tell the Professors and let them deal with his temper this time, while we..." His other hand came up and took a hold on her upper arm.

"Ron, let go!" Hermione snapped, a little startled and afraid now.

His face darkened. "You're a bloody nightmare Hermione! One moment you lead me on, the next you're pulling back and running!"

Hermione stared at him. "Leading you on?"

"Yeah, you know... the constant flirting arguments. We're always doing that. Just proves that you're mine!" With that his grip tightened and he pulled her towards him, his eyes locked on her mouth.

"Ron!" She jerked her head to the side, causing his slobbering mouth to miss hers.

"What? You only whore yourself out to Harry now?" He snarled, pushing her against the low wall that bordered the landing they were on.

"What?" Hermione was stunned.

"I heard you last night." He replied, smugly. Suddenly his other hand came up and groped her through her robe forcefully. Hermione gasped from the sudden pain. To Ron however, she was gasping from pleasure. An amazed look came over his face.

"Damn girl, you have plenty under there! I can't wait to see that!"

Hermione stilled, before looking him in the eye coldly. Ron barely had the chance to wonder at her change when he was struck hard in the crotch.

He staggered back, his hands leaving her to clutch himself. His face white as a sheet, he looked up in time to just see her fist heading for his face.

Her right hook sent him sprawling across the floor, and Hermione allowed herself to breath a little. And also to feel the shock of Ron's actions. What had gotten into him?

Across the landing, Ron's face turned red with anger. "Oh you'll pay for that you mud..." He froze however when he lifted his eyes to find her wand levelled at him.

"You 'What'?" She asked sternly, all the warmth of the Arctic in her voice.

The two of them looked at each other, neither moving. Ron found his eyes darted between the tip of her wand and her eyes, and the fire that was burning in them. The expression on her face prompted him to recall what he'd said about her four years ago. _'Brilliant, but scary.'_

Hermione took a moment to calm herself as she decided that her friendship with Ron was now over for good. Harry would not be happy, but then she thought about his reaction if she ever told him what Ron had started to say. "You'd best go back to the Common Room Ron. I can manage on my own."

"But... McGon..."

"Professor McGonagall trusts me." Hermione stated. "I have a plan on how to help Harry. I just... need to do this alone."

A change came over Ron's expression. His eyes hardened and a sneer he might have stolen from Malfoy creased his face. "What, you going to whore yourself to him again?"

Stung, Hermione instinctively cast a Stinging Hex. Her spell struck Ron in the temple, prompting a yelp from him. "What' you do that for?" He yelled angrily, one hand leaving his crotch to grasp his forehead.

"Because it seemed the best way to tell you I'm 'Not Interested'." She snapped in response. Inwardly Hermione was feeling vindicated. Honestly, she'd wanted to do that to him for the last five years! "I have to do this alone."

Ron snorted, then stood up, brushing himself down as he did. "Fine! Run along if you think you have to! Don't see why though. Harry always gets into, and then out of, these kinds of thing..." He continued to mutter as he stomped away.

Sighing, Hermione turned and started walking herself, picking up the map as she did. She glanced at it every few moments, checking on where everyone else was. She really didn't what to come across anyone else on her way.

She was only one floor above her goal when she looked at the map again, and her blood froze. Daphne was now out of the cupboard, and she was not alone. The names 'Draco Malfoy', 'Pansy Parkinson', 'Gregory Goyle', 'Vincent Crabbe' and 'Milicent Boulstrode' hemmed her in against a wall.

Hermione broke into a run, fearing the worst. As she went to deactivate the map, she saw a couple more tags that gave her hope. 'Susan Bones' and 'Erin Macmillan' were nearby, as was 'Professor Sinstra'. Thinking quickly, she reached into her pocket and withdrew her charmed DA Galleon. While most of the DA had the older version, Hermione had secretly created one more, a more advanced version, and had upgraded her own and Susan's. That extra Galleon had gone to Daphne, allowing the three to exchange messages quickly and in confidence. Thinking of her message, she held her wand tip to the rim of the coin at a certain point. Once it was sent, she put the coin and the map away: she was going to need her hands free.

Turning a corner, she moved down the hall... from down which came the sounds of a struggle.

"Over the table you two." Draco's voice drifted down, sending a chill up Hermione's spine... and a surge of fire in her gut. How dare that twisted, evil little cockroach still be here!

Daphne was pleading now, crying out. "No, No! Get off me you slime! NO! Not there! Let me go!"

"Oi, Pansy! Gag this bitch!" Draco snapped.

"Nnnoo..." Daphne was cut off, but the sounds of a struggle could still be heard.

Hermione was almost ready for anything, but what she saw as she rounded the last corner stunned her for a few seconds. Daphne was being held face down onto a table by Crabbe and Goyle, her legs held open and her skirt thrown up over her back. There was no sign of her underwear, but then Hermione saw a scrap of white fabric sticking out of her mouth. Her cheeks were glistening with tears.

Pansy Parkinson and Milicent Boulstrode were stood close by her head, grinning. Pansy appeared to be resting a hand on her belly, while the other was pinning Daphne's down. Milicent had the other hand.

And Draco was stood directly behind Daphne, between her legs. His hands were already gripping her hips, and he seemed to be taking a moment to relish the moment.

The next second, a cold fury exploded within Hermione, and her wand snapped up. "_Stupefy!" _She snarled, sending a red bolt shooting out across the space to slam into Boulstrode. The Slytherin girl was thrown back into a wall, out cold even before she struck.

Three heads snapped up to look at her, while Draco spun around. Even before she registered his opened pants, Hermione had already sent a second spell out, this one striking Pansy. She too was propelled backwards to collapse onto the floor.

"What? Get the Mudblood!" Draco cried. Hermione however was faster, and in seconds both Goyle and Crabbe joined the girls on the floor. Draco found himself once more on the business end of her wand, and all the blood drained from his face, making him look even more like a ghoul.

"You really are a foul monster, aren't you?" Hermione snarled, the anger in her voice clear. Then her eyes drifted down; she couldn't help herself. "And that is the result of making sure that your bloodline remains 'pure'?" She hitched an eyebrow as a smirk danced at the corners of her mouth.

Draco's face went even whiter, an impressive feat, as he moved his hands to cover himself. Not a hard task in itself, as his rather puny member was wilting to an even smaller form.

A clatter of footsteps came from another side corridor, forestalling any other actions. Professor Sinstra was the first to emerge, with Susan and Ernie flanking her. Sinstra gasped sharply at the sight before her, while Susan's eyes widened sharply before she moved forwards, shouldering Draco aside to kneel down by Daphne, who was still crying.

Sinstra looked about at the unconscious Slytherins, then back to Draco, whose trousers were threatening to fall down. As she took in the placement of his hands, the open flies and the look on his face, Sinstra's darkened. Daphne Greengrass was _her_ favourite student. Pure fury pulse through her veins.

"You won't be returning in the fall, Mister Malfoy." She hissed, causing what little colour that was left in his face to vanish. "And do your trousers up!"

Hermione allowed her stance to ease up as Sinstra drew her own wand. Taking a breath to settle herself, she stepped over to where Susan had her arms around Daphne. Crouching down, she saw that her friend was a little more collected now, though the tears were still in evidence.

"Miss Bones, Miss Granger, look after Miss Greengrass. Mister Macmillan, gather these... students, wands." It was clear that the normally polite and softly spoken Professor wanted to say something much harsher. She sent off a messenger spell before turning to start reviving the other Slytherins, much as she wished she didn't have to. From the fire in her eyes, it was clear she wanted to use some other forms of magic on them. Such as potentially lethal hexes.

"You'll regret this, mudblood!" Draco whispered harshly, thinking Sinstra couldn't hear him. "I'll get you for this... and your lesbo friends!" He glared at Susan and Daphne, both of whom looked up at him, hate in their eyes.

"MISTER MALFOY!" Sinstra snapped, whirling around. "You will keep a civil tongue in that mouth! Two hundred points from Slytherin! And _three hundred _points, plus four months detention with Flitch or Professor Hagrid _each,_ for assaulting and attempting to rape a fellow student!" She turned back as the other Slytherins began to protest. "Quiet, or I'll see you all expelled!" Her sharp tone was made worse by her own internal frustration. She personally thought that each and every one of these… these… _monsters,_ should be sent straight to Azkaban. But the Headmaster had set limits for punishments years ago, and only he could exceed them. Expelling a student was at his discretion, as was informing the DMLE. Every time in the past that another professor had contacted them directly, he'd cut off the DMLE and told them that he was handling the matter as an 'internal Hogwarts matter'. Madam Bones was furious the last time, but she'd been forced to back down. The Headmaster was lord and ruler of Hogwarts, and as he was also the Chief Warlock, who presided over all trials and criminal investigations, her hands had been tied. McGonagall had tried for years to change his mind, but he'd remained unbending.

Hermione inhaled sharply. Such a deduction totally destroyed all the gains that Slytherin House had made under Umbridge's rule, putting them rock bottom! And detentions with Flitch were nightmares for many students, as he had then cleaning the worst messes without magic. What Hagrid might have them do when he learned of this… The half giant was normally a kind hearted, gentle figure. But this… she could just picture his fury.

Taking the bundle of wands from Ernie in her free hand, Sinstra looked coldly at the Slytherins, venom dripping form her tone. "Come along now. We'll see what the headmaster has to say..." She glanced over to Hermione. "I may need for Miss Greengrass and yourself to submit your memories of this... incident, Miss Granger." She spoke softly.

Hermione nodded silently. Daphne was still for a moment, before nodding jerkily. Satisfied, Sinstra directed the detained students away, gesturing for Macmillan to come with her. As they walked away Hermione turned back to Daphne. "You okay?"

"Now, yes." Was the shaky reply. From within Susan's embrace she looked up curiously. "How did you find me?"

Hermione flushed red. "An item of Harry's." Only then did she recall the state of her best friend. "Harry!" Heedless of the others – besides, she knew she could trust them – she pulled out the map and engaged it again. Susan and Daphne's eyes leapt open at the sight of the map, showing the progress of Sinstra and the Slytherins towards her office. Hermione however looked directly at the tower, and sighed in relief. The headmaster was walking away from the lower entrance, while Harry was still at the top. Sinstra's message must have reached him just as he was about to ascend to the top.

"Listen, I've got to go help Harry. Here's the cloak." She pulled Harry's cloak out of her bag and piled it on Daphne's feet. "Stay safe." With that Hermione rose and rapidly moved off.

Behind her the two girls watched her with narrowed eyes. After they watched Hermione disappear around a corner Susan turned to look at Daphne. "Did you figure out what she's planning?" Daphne was the better of the two at deciphering Hermione's thought processes.

A small smile appeared on Daphne's tear streaked face. "Yes. And there's only one place where she can pull it off." Standing up, she reached into the cupboard she had been hidden in and withdrew her bag. "Head back to your dorm and grab your potion kit. I doubt she'll have enough of the ingredients for all three of us."

Susan was baffled. "What? And where do you mean?"

Daphne shook her head. "No time to explain right now. As for where... the Room of Requirement. If we hurry, we can get there before she does with Harry."

* * *

Stepping out onto the roof of the Astronomy Tower, Hermione instantly saw Harry pacing back and forth before her. As he walked back, she stopped to take in his face. He'd grown so much from that skinny, gaunt, innocent little boy that she'd found in that compartment. Then again, she had also come a long way from that cute, if rather bossy and abrasive little girl.

While Harry was still on the lean side, a solid ten months of being able to eat as much as he liked had filled his frame out, putting flesh on his bones. He was still lagging behind his fellow male students in terms of physical development; those years at the Dursley's would leave a mark for some time. But he was growing into a fine, handsome young man.

Of more importance to her however was that which lay behind those brilliant green eyes. Despite everything that Harry had gone through, all the hardships and trials, all the pain and agony, he was still a Good Person. He had, somehow, maintained his innocence. He was the humblest person on the planet, yet would throw himself into the path of danger for almost anyone.

Oh, he had flaws, just like everyone else. He was slow to forgive, slow to trust, and so unassuming it sometimes drove Hermione mad. But his most distressing flaw was that he directed all his anger and frustration inwards, letting it build up and fester. She had been on the end of his ire during the early part of the year for his isolation during the break before. Hermione too had been frustrated with the decree Dumbledore had handed down, but she had gone along with it. Why, she was no longer sure.

Yet, for all his faults, Hermione did love Harry. When he smiled it lit up his whole face, erasing the harrowed, haunted look from his eyes. And his eyes... Hermione had found that she had to be careful, lest she found herself lost in their depths.

As he turned once more, the light from the evening sun played across him, and she found herself running her eyes down him. Having just seen Malfoy's bare 'equipment', a small part of her wondered just how Harry stacked up... Her mind froze in its tracks however when her eyes landed on the front of his pants.

"Hermione!" Harry's startled outcry made her jump, and she looked up at his face, her own reddening like mad. In his eyes she could see that he had caught her looking, and she blushed even more.

Harry had been pacing back and forth, trying to settle his mind. Of all the times for Ginny to come on to him! He'd known for a long time of her insane 'Fan-girl' crush on him, but normally he could just shrug it off. He just didn't have it in him to tell her to give up her dream, to tell her that she just did not excite him. Quite apart from the fact that she was also his best mate's little sister.

But today, she'd almost him dragged off, and hadn't even given him a chance to speak. And he knew that she wouldn't even have managed _that _if it hadn't been for this bloody curse! Despite his mind screaming 'no', he'd allowed her to kiss him, even starting to return it.

Then the semi-hard erection in his briefs had flared up in a full blown hard-on, putting intense pressure onto his waistband. That tightness had startled him, allowing his sanity to claw him back from the brink. The haze had threatened to descend again when Ginny pressed herself against him again, but he'd managed to wrest control back and escape the cupboard she'd pulled him into.

Once out however, he'd seen many more young women, and realised that his control was slipping. Desperate, he'd run, searching for the quietest, loneliest place he could. The top of the tower, as well as being both, was also chilly from the wind that whipped down from the mountains. It was not a cold shower, but it had helped.

But all of his efforts were nearly undone when he turned and found Hermione standing there! Harry had grappled with the contradiction that plagued him whenever she was close. His lust and desire grew stronger, but so did his determination to maintain control. Last night, when she'd come to borrow the cloak, he'd been on the verge of ravishing her then and there.

Harry knew that he cared for her a great deal. That fuelled his determination to maintain a grip, so that he wouldn't hurt her. But why did his lust spike too? It didn't with any other girl, not to the same degree...

But now his train of thought went right out the window when he saw her looking at him with a look in her eyes. It took him a moment to place it, but he couldn't be right.

There was no way she'd look at him _hungrily!_

Looking closer, he could see her face turning bright red as she looked him in the eye. Then he realised where her eyes had been... He hastily wrapped his robe about him. "What are you doing here Hermione?" He pleaded. "You know..."

"Yes, Harry, I know the risks." Hermione interrupted. "But I've found a way to cure you."

"Really?" For the first time in the last week Harry felt hope. "How?"

"In a bit." She replied, drawing her wand. "Firstly... I'm really sorry about this..."

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

Hermione answered his question. "_Stupefy_!" She put everything she had into her spell; she didn't what him waking until she had everything ready.

The force of her spell knocked him flat on his back. She winced when she heard his head strike the stone floor, despite the cushioning spell she shot underneath him. Sighing, she murmured another incantation, and his body lifted from the floor and floated at waist height. Gritting her teeth, she began to guide him down the stairs.

She just hoped that they wouldn't meet anyone on the way to the Room of Requirement. Especially the Headmaster.

* * *

AN: And thats the last of the 'build up' chapters. Next chapter will be the one you've been waiting for, Hermione's 'cure'... *grins*

EDIT: After a second look at that bit, prompted by a couple of reviews, I've added some more to the end of Malfoy's attempt. I hope it's clear that while Professor Sinstra would expell them on the spot and dump them in the hand of the DMLE, she's constrained by limits imposed by Dumbledork. I'll explain more about 'this' incaration of the Headmaster in a later chapter.


	5. Passions Unleashed

AN: Okay, here's the chapter you've all been waiting for, the climax of the opening of this story. Note this likely pushes the 'MA' rating boundary, but I doubt anyone'll report me... ;) It's the longest chapter to date, but breaking it down wouls just ruin it, so sit back, relax... and have a cold shower on stand by!

The poll on the expanded 'Harem' is now closed. Katie and Tracy far outstripped any of the others, with Katie just pushing past Tracy. However... the way things have evolved in the later chapters, mainly with Family back story and the like, means that the final 'Harem' will be: Hermione, Susan, Daphne, Fleur and Tracy. Katie's not going to be forgotten though. She, and one other witch, will 'join' the Potter family, but neither as a 'Harry Wife'.

UPDATE 5th June: due to the news of the crackdown by the Moderators, I've gone through this chapter and cut out all the details I could... *sigh*

* * *

Sliding the bolt home, Hermione allowed her forehead to rest against the door in relief... and trepidation. She'd managed to get Harry here without encountering anyone along the way, for which she was very grateful. The bolt though... that was to ensure that nobody would interrupt what she was going to go.

Turning about, she looked over to the far side of the room. The Room of Requirement had come through for her again, forming an antechamber for a much larger room. The main feature of the larger space was a vast bed, on which Harry lay. In this chamber were two modest sized caldrons, required for the next phase of the plan. Her plan.

With shaking hands she unclasped her robe. Shrugging it off, she laid it on a small table at her side. Then she paused, unable to make that first step. Now that the moment was upon her, Hermione felt the full weight of what she was planning to do... and it terrified her. She had tried to rationalise everything, work out every possible outcome, but there was an element that she could not fully predict. She stood on the cusp of opening a veritable Pandora's Box. She could not predict what would come out...

"Hermione Jane Granger, relax!" She scolded herself. "This is all for Harry. Whatever happens afterwards, you can deal with."

"You know, they say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness." Daphne's voice emerging from a couple of feet to her side startled Hermione. Whirling round, she was in time to see Daphne and Susan emerge from underneath Harry's cloak.

It took a few seconds for her to recover from her shock. "What are you two doing here?"

"We want to help." Susan answered as she nervously folded the cloak. "Daphne told me what you're planning to do."

Hermione turned her gaze onto her blond friend. "How... what do you mean?"

Daphne sighed. "This morning, when we found you in the library, I looked over what you had been reading up on after you left." Daphne folded her arms across her chest. "Lust and Stamina potions. You figured we couldn't cure him conventionally, but if he were to let go and allow the curse to run its course, it would burn out." When Hermione didn't respond, Daphne pressed on. "And as we can't have Harry raping the whole school, you decided to make sure he could only have you... and you'd make sure you'd be capable of keeping up with him, keeping his interests, by potioning yourself up." She paused for a moment. "Up to dangerously high levels."

Hermione stood still for a moment, then her shoulders slumped down as her head bowed.

"Why Hermione?" Susan asked gently. "Why did you try and hide all this?" She waved a hand around the chamber.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know if it'll work. If I do this alone, then only I am at risk." She looked up at her friends. "Besides, can you imagine the repercussions to Harry if this got out? Or to me? Malfoy would have a field day..."

Daphne shuddered a little at her attackers name, but forced herself to focus on what Hermione had said. "The problem is, Hermione... a single witch, no matter how much potion she had taken, would not be able to keep up with him now. And even with those potions, you'd need to pause for breath every now and again. You'll need at least one other to distract him while you recovered." Daphne shook her head gently. "And consider the amount of potion you'd have to drink to even have a chance... your body would not be able to handle it."

Hermione slumped into a chair by the caldrons. "So what now?"

Daphne stepped forwards and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione... your plan _will _work... _if _all three of us take part."

"What?" Hermione's head snapped up to look at Daphne in shock. Seeing the determined set in her eyes, Hermione turned to look at Susan. The red-head was more openly worried, but she nodded in reply to her silent question.

"If there's anything I know about Harry, it's that he'd do anything to help any one of us if we were in trouble. He faced down a Basilisk to save Ginny; I can't think of anything much worse. How can we not do the same for him? But more to the point..." Susan stepped forwards to rest a hand on Hermione's other shoulder. "...We're you're friends Hermione."

Hermione looked between the two of them, her face clearly showing her shock and concern. "But... you don't... I mean..."

"It's our choice Hermione." Daphne cut her off again gently. A sad, scared look entered her eyes. "I may not have much time to make mine." Blinking, she refocused on Hermione. "This way, not only do I get the chance to enjoy it, I also deny Draco and his ilk from being able to brag."

Hermione looked between her two friends, her mind a whirling maelstrom. She didn't know if her plan would work, hence why she'd set things up so that she'd do it alone. That way, only she would be risking everything.

But now her friends wished to help, to be involved. Both for Harry... and for her.

"Are you two sure that you know what this entails?"

Susan nodded, a flash of nervousness passing through her eyes. "Yes, we... fuck, Harry." All three of them flushed a little at the raw term. "As many times as needed to break the curse. Enjoy every second of it, while also trading him off between us to allow each other to get their breath back."

"There's something else." Hermione spoke quietly, her face flushed. "With the amount of lust potion we're going to have to take, and the... activities, it's very likely we're going to end up... with each other."

Hermione watched as Daphne's and Susan's eyes snapped wide open before they looked at each other briefly before looking away, blushes covering their cheeks.

"That's another reason why I was going to do this alone. I didn't want to put anyone in the situation of having to do something they didn't want to." A flush passed over her cheeks and she looked down. "I know, better than anyone in the school, how desirable he's become. I don't think there's a single witch in the school who would turn down a chance to... have Harry. But I've also learned how intolerant the Magical world is. Lesbianism, I suspect, is another one of those things that is frowned on."

Daphne's mouth twitched. "Very much so. The only thing lower is being a 'Muggle Lover.' Being Gay is only just above. Typical wizarding double standards."

With a long sigh, Hermione stood up. "Okay, we'll do... it, your way."

Sharing a smile, both Daphne and Susan retrieved their own potion kits and brought them to the table where Hermione had set her own. As she opened hers up, Susan couldn't help notice how Hermione's was overflowing with many more ingredients than a normal kit. Under the guise of looking more closely at the preparations for the potion they were going to be making, she examined Hermione's kit carefully. It clearly had started out as a normal student kit, but equally as clearly Hermione had been adding to it. Many of the vials were half full and had labels written in Hermione's own hand. Susan smiled to herself; she guessed that Snape's stores must have suffered at least once in the past.

Most of the ingredients went into the larger caldron for the Stamina potion. Hermione didn't expect that they would need more than a couple of doses of Lust potion each, even with this weaker, general one. One tied to Harry himself would have been more powerful, but none of them figured that would be necessary. It was the Stamina potion that they were going to need a lot of.

Once the potions were done, they measured out individual doses. Once they were done there were six vials of dark red liquid next to almost two dozen milky white ones. Another three vials were next to them, Hermione's supply of contraceptive potion, which she had maintained since the start of Third Year.

Now that the time was upon them, all three young women hesitated. With nervous movements they cleared away the debris from the preparation of the potions, even though once everyone left the room the caldrons, fires and other items would vanish.

Hermione was in the middle of wiping down the worktop – for the second time – when she paused and looked at what she was doing. "Oh honestly!" She snapped, throwing down the cloth she'd been using and stepping over to the small table where the vials were. "If we're going to do this we should just get on with it!" Recognising the source of her anger, neither Susan or Daphne said anything as they stepped over to her as Hermione snatched up three of each set of vials. Turning to face them, she held out her hand.

Tentatively, the other two reached out and plucked one of each vial from her grasp. Together they uncapped the stamina potion first.

The thick, gloppy liquid didn't go down well, but it went down none the less. As it did, each one of them felt their fatigue fade away. It was as if they hadn't already gone through most of a day already. It was easy to see how wizards in the past could get addicted to this potion.

The contraceptive was next, a faintly pink fluid. After discarding the vial, Hermione's face was grim as she opened the last vial in her hand. "Last chance to back out now. Once we take these…"

The other two just removed the tops of their vials in reply.

Hermione smiled nervously. "Cheers."

They drank together. The Lust potion went down easily, no more than water in feeling. Hermione was just lowering the vial, idly wondering when it would kick in, when a shiver ran through her. The room seemed to get hot in an instant, causing her to start sweating instantly. She gasped when it felt like she'd been kicked in the gut, causing her to drop the vial. Her heart began to race, pumping her boiling hot blood throughout her, spreading the passion. Her centre suddenly gushed, and she faintly felt her knickers soak up a fraction of the liquid that now poured forth. Finding herself panting, she looked towards Susan.

She froze as she looked at the red-hair beauty before her. Wide, expressive eyes above a full, ideally kissable mouth, the lips slightly parted. Her smooth cheeks were slightly flushed, providing a backdrop for her blazing hair that hung down and flowed over her shoulder, hanging down to mid back and around the swell of her large, perfected proportioned breasts. Her shirt was taut over those twin orbs of pure sensual female flesh, her nipples pushing out at the peaks. Below that riveting view her waist was a smooth, shallow concave curve before flaring out into a generous set of hips. Hermione wondered if Susan was as wet at the junction between her legs as she was...

Gasping, Hermione forcibly turned her head away, shocked at her blatantly sexual thoughts. Sadly, her eyes landed on Daphne, and once more her breath was stolen away.

The blonde's body was a slim ensemble of smooth curves that ran into each other without pause or hesitation. Her limbs were elegant and fine boned; the fingers delicate and so smooth. Her pert breasts seemingly strained to be recognised as such, while above an elegant, pale neck seduced the eye to follow it up to a fine, narrow chin that formed the lower boundary for an elfin face. There was a delicacy to her features that was stunning. A couple of loose tresses of blonde hair down her forehead, drawing the eye to her own, seemingly large and liquid in her face. To sleep with such a beauty, to caress that porcelain skin...

Hermione forced herself to look at the closed inner doorway... through which Harry awaited, her lust whispered to her. Her mind became crowded with images of Harry, lustful, sinful images. Her underwear was soaked already. "We...we'd best wake him up."

The other two barely nodded, fighting down the urge to just jump Hermione right now. Their brave, brilliant friend had become a vision of beauty. Her body was now a lithe, well proportioned form, made of sweeping curves that hinted at her femininity, forming an alluring mystery. Her hair was wild and unbridled, wanton, streaked with the lingering blond highlights left over from the previous summer. Her eyes were sparkling brown jewels set in a face that was shedding the last of her youth fat to reveal the fine boned elegant beauty that lay underneath. But it wasn't just her classic beauty that made Hermione attractive and sexy. Susan and Daphne both knew who she was as well, and it was that unbending, indomitable spirit that truly tugged at them.

Trembling slightly, from fear or anticipation she could no longer tell, Hermione pushed the inner door open. Harry was as she had left him, sprawled spark out on the bed. A lusty groan escaped her throat as she gazed on him. Harry had always been thin and lanky, but at long last he was starting to fill out, his body gaining some wiry muscles. The rounded cherubic face he wore when they first met was almost completely gone, replaced with a firm jaw line. The hair was the same as ever though, an untameable mass of black locks that she just itched to run her hands through.

Raising her wand, she had to focus her mind with some force to stop it shaking, and to recall the spell correctly.

"_E... Envenerate!"_

As Harry started to stir she passed her wand to Susan, who laid it down on a small table to the side, along with her own and Daphne's. Harry's already rested there. With a cloud of butterflies in her stomach – in addition to the nest of snakes already there – she stepped towards the bed, fighting down her desires for a few seconds more. "Harry?"

"Hermione! Leave, now!" Harry had managed sit up a bit, supporting himself with his arms behind him, elbows resting on the mattress. As she stepped closer, Hermione could see that his wondrous green eyes were clouded with barely restrained lust. Despite everything, seeing that look in his eyes directed at her sent a thrill of excitement through Hermione that almost destroyed her entire resolve.

"Harry... I..."

"No! You've got to leave me, now! Before I..." He faltered, voice breaking. A groan emerged from his throat as his eyes closed. "Just... go, Hermione. Before it's too late."

"Oh Harry..." Hermione half whispered as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Susan and Daphne hung back, knowing that only Hermione would be able to reach him. "It's okay... we've found a way to save you..." Tentatively she reached for his arm.

He whirled away, rolling onto his side and curling up. "I... you can't risk... it. I... Don't know... how long I can..." He shuddered with each word, as if he were struggling to speak them.

Although she understood why he did it, Harry's action hurt Hermione. Nevertheless, she pressed on. "Harry... there is no spell or potion that can cancel the curse on you. But, if you... let go..."

"Can't..." Harry was almost whispering now.

Hermione shuffled over to him, ever so gently resting a hand on his shoulder, her fingers catching a few stray locks of hair. He stiffened at her touch. "You have to let the curse run its course... It's too powerful to stop. Only if you let it burn it-self out will you be free of it."

A shiver passed through Harry's frame. "But... if I... I'd..." he swallowed audibly. "...the whole school..."

"No Harry, you won't." Hermione leaned over him a little, her hand tightening slightly. "That's part of my... our plan. As long as I... we, can keep your... interest, the others are safe." She reached down and cupped his cheek, applying gentle pressure to turn his head so that she could look into his eyes. A single tear was trailing down from his eye, and she unconsciously wiped it away with her thumb, heedless of the tears that had started to run down her own cheeks. Within that brilliant green gaze she saw every emotion he had churning about, his principles and integrity fighting valiantly to hold back the curse induced lust. Clearest of all was his concern about her, his fear of driving her away, or hurting her.

"You could never hurt me Harry." She whispered, almost in a lovers tone. "I know you never could. I trust you Harry..." And with that she lowered her head down to his, and ever so gently pressed her lips to his.

For a long second he was as still as stone, unresponsive. Hermione knew that he was trying to maintain control, but it was a losing battle. Slowly she lifted her head again, backing off enough so that she could look into his eyes once more. The conflict in his eyes was clear. She didn't say anything; words would just ruin things now. Instead she allowed all her feelings to surface, all her dreams and desires. She looked at him with all that she had. With all the love she had for him in her heart.

A sharp intake of breath was her only warning before he seemed to almost lunge upwards at her, his mouth almost covering hers. His hand came up from underneath him to wrap around the back of her head, the fingers weaving into her hair.

With Harry's submission to his passion and lust Hermione followed suit, unleashing her own desire. Her entire existence shrank down to the feel of his mouth on her own, the tough, wiry body beneath her. A gentle pressure from him caused her to roll slowly onto her back, Harry rolling with her, ending up on top. Now both sets of hands began to roam, Hermione taking the opportunity to slide her hands up his back and over his shoulders, relishing the muscles she felt underneath. She was only vaguely aware of Susan and Daphne sliding onto the bed with her and Harry, one each side.

* * *

As the night wore on, everything seemed to blur together as time went on. Hermione felt like she was in a daze, riding waves of passion and love through a storm of lust. Images came and went, while the order of things began to break down. After she and Harry had reached climax together, Susan had had a turn herself. Then, after reaching their peak together, he'd been distracted by Daphne, while Hermione had been unable to resist having a little fun with her Hufflepuff friend.

After that point things began to blur too much to fully understand. Susan had gone for Harry once he'd brought Daphne to her first climax. Then Hermione had a third round with him, loving every second of it. Then Daphne had come back for seconds, a big saucy grin on her face. Hermione had reclaimed him after her, riding him like Susan had.

Time lost meaning as the three witches traded Harry back and forth between them, pausing to gulp down the Stamina Potion every so often so they could keep up with him. A line of pain began to grow in Hermione's chest, but she ignored it. Her entire concern was for Harry, and him beating the curse on him, not on her own barely recovered figure.

Despite the toll they were inflicting on themselves, they could sense that they were breaking the curses hold on Harry. He'd become very aggressive early on, but then he'd started backing down, becoming more gentle and caring. From their planning, they knew they could not let him be kept waiting; he had to be going constantly.

All too soon it seemed the potion supplies ran out, and the three of them began to feel the ache in their bones. Their love for Harry, and each other now, made them push on regardless of their weariness.

Harry was himself beginning to flag when Daphne crashed out, after two climaxes in a row.

Hermione and Susan had continued to stay with him for almost half an hour longer, Susan drawing on her natural stamina, Hermione on her love for Harry. But they could not maintain such a pace for long. Susan, after the most powerful orgasm she'd had all night, only just managed to stop herself collapsing on top of him. Instead she managed to roll off him to lie at his side, gasping for breath. Harry too was trying to draw in breath. The curse was weakened, but not completely gone. It was still there, in his eyes.

Hermione knew, right then, that she had to ride it out of him. Climbing astride him once more, they slid together again, a perfect fit. Susan watched from the side, barely holding onto consciousness, as Hermione worked her body to bring Harry off. The faint mark that had run across her body was now a livid, angry red, a testament to the strain she was putting herself under. Hermione felt that a red hot bar was laid across her body, burning her. She used that pain to keep herself from reaching her climax, instead focusing on Harry.

When he peaked, she continued to ride him, not breaking her pace. The signs of the curse flickered a little, but remained. Seeing that they were close, Hermione ground herself against him even harder, restoring his attention. Susan watched in amazement as they both worked themselves up. Tears were running freely from their eyes. Red marks, inflicted unintentionally, marred all their skins. All the sheets were soaked through, as was their two of them cried out as they reached the heights once more, Hermione's hair flying about her head as she slumped forwards.

"God... Hermione..." Harry whispered hoarsely. Weariness coloured his voice.

She looked up at his face. His eyes were his... but there was a flicker in the corner, much like when he'd been first cursed.

Curiously, the lower end of his famous scar was weeping a dark, brackish fluid, like black blood.

Hermione fought to draw in breath past the almost crippling pain that had spread to her whole torso. "Once more Harry... you've got to... once more." She gasped out.

"I don't... Think I can..." He replied wheezing. "Just... so tired..."

"I know Harry... but you have to..." Seeing how he was barely responding to Hermione's ministrations, Susan gathered what strength she had left and shifted herself to lie at his side, trapping his arm underneath her. Her motion startled him, and he looked at her with wide green eyes. He looked so different without his glasses in the way, she thought, as she pressed her sore breasts against his side, trapping his leg between her own.

Hermione looked down at him, her sweat soaked hair draped around her head, lips swollen and battered from all the kissing she had been doing. In that look Hermione Granger, Smartest Witch of Her Age, was gone. Instead there was only an all consuming wanton lust. Harry could feel one last release building within him.

But there was also a pressure in his forehead, centred on his famous scar. It wasn't like the pain he felt when it had flared up during the previous years. This was something else, as if something in the scar felt pain.

Hermione didn't know how much longer she could keep this up. The brand across her torso was almost too much. She was having to fight it off to feel pleasure now. Every muscle in her body ached, and she was so tired... But she continued, because of her love. "... Harry... I love you..." She gasped, finally saying the words. She knew they both knew, but neither had said it all evening.

Harry gasped, then replied with the words she wished to hear above all. "I love you too Hermione."

"Then show me... Just once more... please, just once more..."

"I can't…" Harry moaned weakly.

Hermione knew that she had to get him to come once more, but she'd only get one more rise from him. She doubted that she'd remain awake much longer.

"Please Harry… once more…"

"HermioneraaaaaagggggghhhhHH!"

Hermione and Susan, both distracted by their own climaxes, didn't notice at first the change in Harry's scream, or the radiant glow that began to shine from the pair of them. Susan gasped and Daphne's eyes went wide as they stared at the two before them. There were no clouds, no swirling stars, just a faint radiance that lit the two of them up, like they were in the centre of a spotlight. Only they were the light source, the light seeming to emerge from their very skin. It played around them, before seeming to jump to Susan, and then to Daphne. It was only when his hand left her waist and gripped his own forehead that Hermione realised something was wrong. Leaning forward, she tried to see what was happening.

Harry winced, his hand gripping his forehead over the scar. The pain from within the scar had flared up sharply, tearing into him. There was a screaming in his head that had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with whatever was in that scar.

Far across the British Isles, in an old run down manor, someone else was screaming in agony, feeling as if his very soul was on fire. A couple of floors above him, a witch froze, then collapsed in pain, smoke rising from the inside of her left forearm.

All three witches looked him in concern. A horrified look was on Hermione's face, and she was on the verge of breaking down, when Daphne nudged her and pointed.

Harry's hand had fallen away from his head, revealing that his scar was livid, as if freshly made. A black flame flickered from within it, giving a dark greenish smoke. As Harry's cried faded, another thinner, shriller one took over. It was a scream of pain and pure terror, of a nightmares death. As the smoke faded and dispersed, the scream faded too until it was gone. Frowning, Hermione peered closely at the famous scar. Instead of the darkly coloured mark it had been before, now it looked like any normal cut on someone's body. A little blood welled up within it.

Slowly Harry's breathing eased. His eyes opened slowly and wearily. "Her... Hermione?" He asked, sounding as weak as a new-born lamb.

"I'm here Harry... I'm here." She answered, sounding almost as weak as he did. She gazed into his eyes letting herself drown in his emerald depths. "How do you feel?" She asked slowly.

Harry's eyes half shut. "Sore... Tired..." He whispered.

Hermione nodded slowly, a smile beginning to form on her face. "Sleep Harry. You're free now. Sleep." Reaching up, she brushed his hair back, feeling him drift off even as she did.

After a moment Susan spoke up. "Is it... over?" She asked, whispering.

Hermione smiled, a smile of joy and weariness. "It is. The curse is broken."

"Thank Merlin..." Susan breathed, laying her head down on Harry's shoulder, eyes already drifting shut as she snuggled into him. Daphne had already drifted off again, just to his right, face down, head turned to look towards him.

Hermione sighed with relief, shifting her body a little to find a more comfortable place as she lay on Harry. "They won't tear us apart again Harry..." She whispered as her head came to rest on his chest, just below the collarbone. Seconds later she was asleep.

* * *

AN: And that's it. Hope you all enjoyed that... and don't consider it too 'adult' for FF... till next time.


	6. Back to Reality

A/N: You lot have no idea how happy I am about how well last chapter was received. That is the critical chapter in this stoyry (so far) It's from where I started several years ago, a very naff pure smut plotless fictlette. I reworte it to make it more believeable, and everything from now is posing the question 'How would that affect things?'

A few mentioned 'bonded' in your reviews. While there is an element of that, there's enough fics with that theme that I'm not making a big deal about it. It will throw up some... side effects (one of which is introduced in this chapter, a remment of that early, pure smut ficlette) but it's not going to be important. And I already have plans to explain this side-effect... ;)

I do take all your constructive reviews onboard, but it might not be apparent right off. The Curse will be explained more... later. When Harry has a chance to slow down and ask himself.

Seriously, I am so pleased that I'm moving up my posting schedule! I was going to post every four weeks, but I'm going to try and maintain a tri-weekly posting. I figure you would all prefer to have a regular posting scheme than several chapters in a week or two, then nothing for several months...

Now, for the beginning of the aftermath...

* * *

The first thought that crossed Harry's mind when he awoke was how tired he still felt. The second was that he ached all over, as he'd been playing Quidditch for nearly a whole week non-stop. His crotch throbbed in a way it never had before...

That's when he realised that he was not alone. There was a body lying on top of him, while two more were at his sides, pinning his arms down under their bodies.

Their naked, very feminine bodies...

Harry's eyes snapped open. For a moment the world spun before they started to work. His glasses were still on his face, barely. Throwing his head back caused them to slide back into place. He gazed up at the ceiling high above, trying desperately not to think about the situation he was in...

Harry frowned as he realised something was missing as he looked at the shafts of sunlight that angled through the windows high above. The feelings and drive from the last few days was gone. He felt... content. Almost happy, even. That restless, coiled tension had faded.

He _did _have a semi-erection, though it was tempered by the soreness, but it was nothing compared to the constant rock hard one he had over the last few days. And he knew that his current condition was the result of the girl lying on him... and the ones on each side.

His eyes half closed as he thought back, trying to remember the previous night. Much of the last couple of days had been almost a haze. He barely recalled Ginny's advances, how he'd almost thrown her away, trying to escape before he lost it. After that he could only recall pacing at the top of the astronomy tower, trying to get himself under control.

The next thing he recalled clearly was waking up in here, feeling the after effects of an _enverate_ running through him. He'd sat up, to see...

"Hermione!" Harry gasped, eyes flying wide as he glanced down. His heart nearly froze when he saw the mass of matted bushy brown hair all over his bare chest. Even without seeing her face, he knew that hair anywhere.

His face draining of colour, Harry looked to his left, then his right. Susan's long red hair was fanned out behind her as she was snuggled into his side, her face slightly upturned. He paused when he noted the small, satisfied smile on her face.

On his right side was Daphne Greengrass, her skin slightly paler against his own. Her relatively short blond hair was a tangled mess, but she too was smiling slightly.

Feeling Hermione move, he looked back towards her. Nervously he watched as she lifted herself up a fraction, her hair trailing across him as she turned her head. A shiver ran up his spine as she moved a leg, the inside of her shin sliding against his thigh. Feeling her skin rubbing against his brought back snatches of the previous night. Groaning in horror, he closed his eyes as he recalled how he'd almost brutally fucked the three of them again, and again...

Hermione used her hand to push her hair up and over her head, allowing her to look up at him. "Morning Harry..." She half purred, prompting him to look at her again. Her face was flushed, a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye, despite the weariness in them. Despite his best efforts Harry found his eye line dropping a few inches.

Her smile turned sultry. "I see that you're happy to see me."

Closing his eyes, Harry let out a defeated moan as he allowed his head to flop back to thud into the pillow. "Why, Hermione? Why'd you do it?"

Hearing the tones of guilt and aguish in his voice, the smile dropped from her face. "You have nothing to feel guilty about Harry." She spoke gently, soothingly. "You were under the influence of a dark curse; you couldn't be held responsible even if we had been unwilling." Although he didn't say anything, the way he looked at her again told her that she had caught his attention.

"Harry... what happened last night... all three of us knew what would happen going in. There is no cure to this curse Harry. The only way is to let it run it's course, burn itself out. I figured out that it would be quicker, and more effective, if the partners were willing." She smiled again, a warm, comforting, happy smile as she reached out with one hand to cup his cheek. "I have no regrets about last night."

Another right hand crossed his line of vision, and Harry found his head being pulled around so that he was looking at Susan again. Her pale grey eyes looked back at him almost serenely. "Neither do I." She told him simply. "Last night was... Words fail me."

"I second her." Daphne's voice came from the other side of the large bed.

"Harry..." Hermione spoke softly as she leaned forwards. Harry turned to see that her face was only a few inches from his own. Looking into her face, he was struck at how pretty her eyes were. Warm, round orbs of chocolate, with flecks of gold surrounding the pupil in the centre. "It was our choice to do this. I... we, care about you Harry, more than you can know. Don't tear yourself up, because you are blameless. Saving you is more important to me than anything..." She trailed off, a small tear running down from the corner of her eye.

Feeling that Daphne had rolled onto her side, putting her closer to him, Harry lifted his arm up and over her so that he could brush away the tear from Hermoine's cheek with his thumb.

He found however that he could not remove his hand, and so he held it there, cupping Hermione's cheek. After a moment she responded by leaning her head into his hand, he eyes drifting shut as she did.

With her eyelids closed, Harry found his own eyes dropping down to her lips, which were slightly parted. Time seemed to slow as he looked at her. His fingers of his right hand slid a little further round the back of her head, and he applied gentle pressure, pulling her towards him. Her eyes flickered open just as he lifted his head and sat up a bit.

He wasn't sure what would happen when he kissed her, but the instant Harry's lips touched Hermione's everything seemed to stop. He could feel almost nothing except the feeling of her soft, moist lips on his, and a sweeping sense of fulfilment. This felt _right._ Nothing, not his concerns about Voldermort, not his anger at Dumbledore, not his embarrassment at how he woke up, not even his grief over Sirius, intruded in on or diminished this.

Hermione at first was still, as if stunned. But after a second or ten – he was having trouble tracking time – something changed. Her lips seemed to be pressed a little harder against his, and he faintly felt her hand grip his shoulder more tightly. It took him a moment to realise what was happening.

She was returning the kiss.

* * *

For the first time in her life, Hermione's mind was still and quiet. Her powerful mind was wholly focused on what she was feeling, and a single thought running through her head. _'Harry's kissing me!'_

She had been dreaming of this almost for the last two years, ever since mid way through the summer after Third Year. Her feelings for Harry had slowly changed over that year, and the events of Sirius's rescue had brought things into focus. But until now, he'd shown almost no hint of returned feelings. There had been moments when he might have shown something, but it had never been definite.

Now though... she didn't like to admit it, even to herself, but part of the reason her original plan to cure Harry had only included herself was because she was hopeful that such an act on her part would open his eyes. By including Daphne and Susan, two much prettier girls in her opinion, the chances of such an out come were lowered in her opinion.

Though with what was happening now, it seemed that 'that' part or her plan – the part she didn't want to admit to – had worked beyond her wildest dreams.

Harry's lips drifted downwards a little, sliding off her lips. They lingered for a moment on her jaw, before he slowly trailed them long and onto her throat. A sensual moan escaped her lips as Hermione tipped her head to the side, giving him more room to explore her neck.

Slender fingers gently rested on her free shoulder, prompting her to open her eyes. Susan's face appeared before her, her own eyes wide with longing and desire. Her other arm was round Harry's shoulders. Her eyes flickered downwards, then back up before she moved forwards.

Hermione's eyes drifted shut once more as Susan's mouth touched her own, and she couldn't help the moan of pleasure that tried to escape. Before last night, the thought of kissing another girl passionately was unsettling, though not repulsive.

Now though, with Susan, it was good. Even right. A thrill of pleasure shot right through her as the kiss between them deepened. Harry's lips were still running over her throat and neck, sending warm tingles running up and down her spine.

A tiny portion of her brain couldn't help but compare the kisses. Susan's kiss was softer, more delicate than Harry's, but he had strength and power lurking below. And there was his taste, an addictive tang that she knew she would spend the rest of her life trying to sate.

Slowly the three of them eased upright, until Harry and Susan were sat up straight and Hermione was kneeling astride Harry's legs. Throughout the motion they had kept their lips on each other, unwilling to let go. Susan had eased her way closer, and Hermione drew her in, holding her close to her along with Harry. Harry's right hand had moved from her cheek and now lay over her shoulder blade. Susan had wrapped an arm around her, reciprocating Hermione's.

Daphne had just leaned against Harry's back, her hand running up Hermione's arm, when a nervous, high pitched voice spoke from the end of the bed. "Muss Grangy?"

Dobby's voice caused the four teens to break apart, their raising passions slammed in to reverse. Hermione blanched as she looked over her shoulder, her arms crossing in front of her chest in reflex. Stood at the end of the bed was the house elf, his hands clapped over his closed eyes.

"Dobby!" Harry yelled, shocked at the elf's brashness and timing.

"Dobby is so sorry Master Harry Potter Sir, Dobby did not want to intrude! Dobby did not see anything, nor wishes to see anything! But Dobby must tell Harry Potter and his girls." All three young women blushed at the house elf's words.

"Tell us want?" Hermione managed to squeak out.

"He's co... co... coming!" Dobby stuttered. "The he-he-Headmaster!"

"What?" Susan gasped.

Harry's head hit the pillow again with a thud. "Hermione... please tell me you locked the door." He asked with deadly seriousness, his eyes closed.

The tension gripping Hermione's heart eased a little as she registered his question. "Yes. Yes I did. Bolted and padlocked." She frowned, her expression brightening. "He won't be able to see the padlock... that means he can't get in!"

Harry sighed deeply in relief. "Thank Merlin... Staying in here, out of his reach, for the next few years is very appealing right now."

Hermione looked at Harry closely, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "What do you mean Harry? I know you were annoyed with him keeping you in the dark, but..."

Harry sighed deeply. "It goes much, much further than that." He said, his eyes flickering open to reveal pain.

Concern for him shot through her, and Hermione pulled the sheet around her as she eased off him to sit besides him. Susan took the other end of the sheet to do the same just beside her, her legs stretched out behind Hermione. Daphne took half of the second sheet to cover herself, the rest she tossed to Harry. Giving her a small smile of thanks, Harry pushed himself up until his back was resting on the headboard.

Once he had draped the sheet over himself, Hermione reached out and gripped his hand in hers. "Harry... what happened? After we got back from the Ministry... you just seemed to die inside. I thought it was due to... Sirius, but what you just said..." She trailed off at the pained look on his face.

After a couple of deep breathes Harry answered her, the heartache clear. "Sirius... was part of it. But it's also about what Dumbledore told me, just after we got back..."

Hermione frowned, a dangerous glint appearing in her eye. "You mean, that same night?"

Harry nodded. "He made me a portkey to his office. He arrived a half hour later..."

And with that he told them everything the Headmaster had said that terrible night. It tore at his soul to retell all those dreadful facts, but somehow he felt capable of doing so. Maybe it was the way all three witches were clearly listening, wanting to hear. The concern in all three pairs of eyes was clear, though as he continued to haltingly speak anger slowly gathered behind the concern.

Anger wasn't even the beginning of what Hermione was feeling towards Dumbledore at that moment. She was absolutely livid! If it wasn't for Harry, she figured that she'd be storming into his office right now, wand blazing. It may not have achieved much – Dumbledore _was _considered one of the most powerful wizards of the age – but it would have made her feel better!

While they hadn't been involved with the other two's adventures, Both Susan and Daphne had watched from the sidelines, and they'd managed to tease some of the details out of Hermione on occasion. But much of what Harry was saying now was totally new to them. And the way in which the Headmaster had treated and used Harry, at his own admission, offended them both deeply, for different reasons. Susan's sense of loyalty was affronted at the Headmasters duplicity, while to Daphne his handling of Harry had all the hallmarks of the snake-infested politics of her own house.

Harry was about to reveal the prophecy when Dobby returned, his closed eyes still covered. "Master Harry Potter Sir, I must tell you! The Headmaster... he's outside!"

Harry slumped back, eyes shut. He was dreading meeting the Headmaster again... because it meant he would be going back to the Durlseys. And the old coot would be looking to interfere once more, cutting him off from his friends.

Hermione's eyes however had narrowed to brown slits, her lips compressing into a firm, thin line. Slipping out from under the sheet, she climbed off the bed and stepped towards a shelf, on which were several more sheets and some towels. Quickly wrapping a second sheet around her body, she stalked towards the outer chamber, scooping up her wand on the way.

The bolt rattled as she approached it, clearly being affected by an unlocking spell, but the simple padlock prevented the bolt from moving. Retrieving the key from its hiding place, she swiftly unlocked the padlock before pulling the bolt free. Then, after taking a deep breath, she eased the door open a bit.

Looking out through the small gap, she saw everyone she expected. Dumbledore was stood just in front of the door, wand lowered. McGonagall was stood over his shoulder, her face exposing her relief when she saw Hermione looking out. Madam Pomfrey was besides her, also looking relieved. Professor Sprout was off to one side, wringed her hands...

And just beyond her was Snape, his habitual sneer on his face even darker.

"Was there something you wanted Headmaster?" She asked coldly after a moment, as no-one outside spoke.

For a long moment, none of the adults could answer. The image before them was so startling. Hermione Granger was stood half behind the door, dressed in only a sheet that she was holding up to herself. Her hair was a frightful mess, dark circles under each eye and her lips swollen and red. Red marks marred her pale skin over her shoulder, and the top end of the scar across her body was raw and bleeding. She also stank of sweat and sex.

None of them knew how to respond to such an image. It was so outside the 'normal' image of Miss Granger that it completely threw them. The only one who had even expected something like this had been McGonagall, and that was only because she had been warned by Hermione about her plan.

Dumbledore was the first to regain use of his tongue. "Miss Granger... Where is Harry?"

"Inside, resting. You don't need to worry about him any more. We broke the curse."

"We?" He asked, one eye brow raising.

Hermione sighed. "I think you already know, Professor."

"So... Potter's started his own little harem." Snape drawled, venom dripping from every word.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she looked at the despised Potions Master. "Professor... This was not by Harry's choosing. WE did what had to be done." Her tone was firm, the contempt dripping from every syllable.

"Quite so." Dumbledore cut in, not liking the way the conversation was going. "Now, what needs to happen is that yourself, Miss Bones and Miss Greengrass should head down to the Infirmary, while I check on Mister Potter..."

"No."

Dumbledore froze, one hand still reaching out to push the door further open. "What did you say, Miss Granger?"

"I said 'No.' Professor." Hermione answered firmly in an icy tone, her eyes narrowed to brown slits. "We're all perfectly fine here, thank you."

Dumbledore straightened up, his own eyes narrowing. "Miss Granger, I will ask once more…"

"And my answer is the same Headmaster." Hermione shot back with open anger blazing in her eyes, prompting the other professors to take a small involuntary step back. "Don't push me right now Professor. Harry told me about his last conversation with you." A thrill of satisfaction shot through her at seeing the blood drain from his face. "Right now, you are the _second_ least welcome person here."

Dumbledore sighed in resignation. "No matter your personal feelings regarding me, I have to insist..." He froze, as did every other professor in the corridor; Hermione's wand was in her hand and pointed straight at him. Looking into her eyes, Dumbledore realised he was a hairsbreadth away from being hexed… and he wasn't sure just what _kind_ of hex she'd use. He thought about trying Legilimency or her, both to learn which curse she would use and to try and regain control over her, but then he recalled the last time he tried to probe her mind. Hermione didn't know it, but her logical, ordered mind had reasonably decent natural Occlumency defences… enough that she'd know if he tried to probe. He'd gotten away with it in their Third Year since neither magical skill had been mentioned around her. But now, she would have scoured the library looking for books to help Harry learn Occlumency. Just knowing about the twined disciplines would be enough for her to cotton on.

"Back off, Professor. Your day's of controlling Harry like a puppet are over." Her eyes flickered to McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, and softened slightly. "Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall can enter, to clear your _responsibility to the student population._" Hermione's eyes were hard once again as she looked at Dumbledore, as if she were _daring_ him to try and read her mind.

The two elder witches looked at each other before stepping forwards a little nervously. McGonagall laid a hand on Dumbledore's arm, a gentle plea for him to step aside. Reluctantly he did, and Hermione also stepped back, allowing the door to open enough that both older witches could step through. Once they were through she closed the door quickly, double locking it as she did.

Inside, both older women stopped in shock at the sight before them. The huge bed was a mess, clothes were scattered all over the place. Harry had slumped back under the sheets, eyes closed. Susan Bones was sat crossed legged besides him, wearing just her shirt. Daphne Greengrass was the other side of him, a sheet draped over her thin frame.

As they stood there Hermione walked past them to sit on the edge of the bed by Harry. He reached out with one hand and she clasped it, smiling wearily at him as she did. Susan also reached out, her hand coming to rest on top of their clasped ones.

McGonagall continued to stand there as Pomfrey stepped forwards, drawing her wand from the bag she carried. What had happened in here overnight? It was obvious to a degree, but the way they were looking at each other, interacting... Something else had happened, something profound.

Deciding it could wait, she waited by the inner door as Pomfrey began her examinations. She started with Hermione, since she'd seen the gash bleeding on her chest.

"Oh my! You should be in the Hospital Wing at once Miss Granger! You've almost completely torn yourself in two! You're very lucky your wound held together!" Pomfrey's wand was waving furiously across Hermione's torso... her bare torso. Hermione had let the sheet drop to pool around her waist as Pomfrey worked. The extent of the livid scar was clear now, as well as how damaged her skin was. But slowly the damage was healing under Pomfrey's spell work.

Pomfrey's wand slowed down, before tracking lower… towards Hermione's belly, where there was a slight but noticeable bulge. After using a charm she luckily rarely used, madam Pomfrey looked at Harry with shook. "Just how much... how many times did he... ejaculate in you?" Her voice was a worried screech.

Hermione frowned, thinking back. "Daphne got him off eleven times, Susan I think thirteen..." She looked across at her friend who had a dreamy smile on her face. Hermione smiled too before returning her attention to Pomfrey. "Eighteen for me then."

Harry's jaw dropped after a moment. "You mean I came _FORTY-TWO BLOODY TIMES!_" His eyes were so wide it looked like they might fall out off his head.

Hermione couldn't help it; she giggled. So wrapped up in remembering the previous night, she hadn't actually bothered counting. But now he'd said it... "Sorry, it's... he he... that number... it's the answer."

McGonagall frowned. "The answer to what?"

Hermione smiled wide. "That's the question, now isn't it?" At the blank look she got from the others, she shrugged. "Oh, never mind."

Pomfrey resumed glaring at her. "Well, whatever that is, _you_ are confined to bed rest this instant." She reached into her bag and drew out a potion vial. "Now drink this!" She ordered, her tone broking no argument.

Hermione grimaced as she took the vial, but she downed the potion within none the less. She managed to repress the shudder of revulsion she felt, barely.

Harry however, also grimaced, feeling a terrible taste in his mouth.

Pomfrey continued to examine all three girls, muttering and swearing under her breath. At last she finished, and she frowned down at them. "You three are extremely lucky. The amount of potion you must have drunk last night..." she trailed off, allowing them to fill in the blanks. All three of them flushed red and bowed their heads, hearing the reprimand for what it was.

As she turned to examine Harry, who was still laid out on the bed with no indication of when he would stand up again, McGonagall looked over all three girls. Over the course of the examinations they had all recovered and put their shirts on. However, they were worn very casually, not fully done up, and they had not bothered with their other clothing which was scattered about the chamber. There had been almost no modesty between them, understandable given what they had just been through. Still, McGonagall had rules to enforce.

"I'd like to speak with you three for a moment." She indicated the three girls. "But first, get dressed. Properly." A flick of her wand and a softly spoken spell caused a large folding screen to appear and portion off a third of the chamber. All three young women seemed to remember their partially clothed state, blushed, and hurriedly gathered their scattered clothes – mainly with the use of _Accio_ – and stepped behind the screen to get properly dressed.

Turning back to the bed, she could see that Harry was out like a light, while Pomfrey continued to examine him. "Best for him, the poor lad." Pomfrey commented when she saw McGonagall's concerned look. "That curse took a vast toll on his body. He's going to be weak and constantly tired for days. Aside from many decent meals, the best thing he can do is sleep. I've given him some Dreamless Sleep potion to help him rest."

"So they did it? The curse is gone?"

Pomfrey nodded, not quite hiding her own happiness. "Totally gone. In fact... magically, he's healthier then he's been since he arrived. Although..." Pomfrey trailed off.

"What?"

Pomfrey was silent for a few moments. "Something's happened to his scar." With that she lifted up a lock of black hair to reveal his famous scar. It was scabbed over, like it was a normal cut in his skin. Pomfrey muttered a healing spell, and as they watched the scab faded and fresh, unblemished skin took its place. There was still a thin, pale line marking where it had been, but the mark was almost totally gone.

"And there's something else." Pomfrey spoke almost in a whisper. "I can't be sure, but it looks like he's very recently formed a Bond of some sort, maybe more than one…"

McGonagall couldn't help but gasp in shock. "So young? Who, when?"

Pomfrey looked at her, then at the divider that McGonagall had conjured only minutes ago. "I'm only guessing but for when, I think last night. As for why him..." She shook her head. "Mister Potter is always beyond what we expect. As for who..." She looked at McGonagall directly. "You know who."

McGonagall sighed. "Yes."

* * *

At that moment, the young witch in question was struggling to get into her bra. Despite straining herself as much as she could, she could not get the fasteners to meet up. "What's going on here?" She moaned in frustration.

Susan, hearing her, stopped doing up her shirt and moved over to her friend. She looked at the back for a moment, then moved to the side to look at how the bra was sitting.

After a couple more moments she looked up at Hermione, a rueful smile on her face. "It's simple Hermione. You've out grown it."

"What? I've had this set almost a year now! It fitted perfectly last night..." Hermione trailed off, a sudden thought occurring to her.

"Looks like we'll both need to do some bra shopping again." Daphne said in resignation, prompting both girls to look at her. Her own bra was latched around her back, but her breasts were clearly too large to fit within the cups, even with the straps just off her shoulders.

Hermione looked across at their red-haired friend. "What about you Susan?" She asked with concern.

Susan fidgeted. "I'm okay for the moment. I think I've gained a half inch or so, nothing I can't handle. Both of you appear to have gone up a cup size, at least." A flush coloured both girls' cheeks, as they recalled thoughts over the last couple of years where they had wished for larger breasts.

A couple of minutes later the three of them were almost fully dressed as McGonagall stepped around the divider. A quick look over each of them assured her that they were now decently dressed. Waving them into three chairs, she stood for a moment before them, her face grave.

"I hope you three all understand that last night you all broke over a dozen school rules. In any other situation I would be shocked and appalled at the way you three have acted."

The three girls bowed their heads, but not before McGonagall had seen the shame and guilt that flashed over their faces. Having seen such expressions before, she knew that these were genuine feelings, and thus moderated her tone as she continued. "I trust there will be no repercussions from this event?"

Hermione's answer was a fraction slow. "No Professor. We... took precautions." Her face flushed from embarrassment now. McGonagall just nodded slowly, accepting the answer for what it was.

"Now, you'll all serve a detention in the Hospital Wing this evening. Afterwards, return to your dormitories."

Daphne's face paled so rapidly McGonagall wondered for a moment if someone had banished her blood from her veins. More telling was the very real fear and terror in her eyes. Both the others also looked at her in fear. Fear of what she was so scared of, McGonagall realised. "What is the matter Miss Greengrass?"

Daphne looked up, and in her wide blue eyes McGonagall could see that she was terrified by the idea of return to the Slytherin Common Room. But after a moment a shutter of determination came down and she visibly braced herself. "Professor, I... I can't go back down there."

"What do you mean?" McGonagall asked, slightly fearful.

At first Daphne didn't say a thing. But then Hermione reached out and laid her hand over her friends. Slowly, haltingly, as if fighting a spell, Daphne began to speak.

The more she spoke the easier she did, but also the more anger McGonagall felt towards Snape. How dare he encourage this kind of behaviour! She'd heard about the incident yesterday regarding Draco and his groups attempted rape of the young woman sitting before her, which added credibility to her story of systematic rape within the Common Room itself by the spawn of those 'innocent' Death Eaters. It turned her stomach to even _think _that such actions could happen in the School that she had spent most of her adult life in. To find out that it was accepted in one house… Damn Dumbledore and his hands-off, 'Internal House Matters' policy! The policy was that any matter concerning a House would be dealt with by the Head of House. Only the Headmaster could overrule them, which was how he'd overruled her selection of Harry for the Prefectship this year. He was not going to get his way for next year! She swore on that!

More shocking however where the revelations regarding Dumbledore's interference with Harry's life, which Hermione relayed to her. McGonagall found it almost impossible to believe that the man she had looked up to for the last fifty years could be so devious and cruel. She remembered plain as day the night when Harry had been left on the Dursley's doorstep, at Dumbledore's insistence. She had second guessed that decision ever since... Just what was he playing at?

"Harry can not go back there Professor." Hermione spoke passionately, her tone full of fire. "I won't let him be subjected to their torture anymore!" The determined set of her mouth and the hard glint in her eyes prompted a smile to form on McGonagall's lips. Miss Granger was a true example of what it met to be a Gryffindor.

"I agree with you Miss Granger. The trouble is how to arrange it, and where would he go? There are certain advantages to Privet Drive."

"Such as?" Susan jumped in, her tone curious.

"Professor Dumbledore assured me..." McGonagall trailed off, a sudden thought occurring to her. Her expression displayed her thinking.

"The where is easy: my home." Hermione stated firmly.

"But very obvious." Susan cautioned.

"Maybe..." Daphne stepped in. "...But maybe that's what everyone else would think?"

Hermione looked at the blonde with respect. "You have a point there Daphne."

Susan however looked a little down. "But, how can we help? I know I'll be worrying about him all summer..." A blush coloured her cheeks.

Hermione tipped her head to one side, thinking. "What if you both came round to stay at my place over the summer?" She started, drawing confused looked from the other two. "With you both there, people will think there couldn't be enough space for Harry to stay..."

"Hide him in numbers." Daphne smiled, catching on.

"We still need to distract Dumbledore..." Susan put in.

"Leave that to me." McGonagall stated firmly. The three girls looked at her in surprise, shocked that the strict professor would side with them against the headmaster so quickly. "Now, you three need to clean up and get something to eat. And arrange for your new summer plans." Rumbling stomachs punctuated her words, drawing blushes from the three young women.

McGonagall's expression softened. "I am proud of your resolve to help Harry. You three sacrificed much to save him, and risked even more. That kind of loyalty and courage is one of the ideals that this school was built on." McGonagall paused for a moment as a thought came to her. Deciding not to mention it right now, she stood up and motioned the girls to do the same. "Now, go and eat something, then report to the hospital wing."

When they stepped out from behind the screen they found Pomfrey standing by the door, Harry still asleep and levitated besides her. A flash of fear swept across Hermione's face for an instant before she schooled her features. However, both adults noted it and shared a knowing look.

McGonagall was the first to step out into the corridor, placing herself between the students and the other professors. Dumbledore started forwards, expecting her to step aside, but had to halt sharply when he realised she wasn't moving.

"Professor McGonagall?" He asked his voice calm and serene to those who didn't know him well enough. However, McGonagall could hear the tension hidden underneath.

She turned and fixed him with one of her piercing glares. "I'm handling this situation Headmaster. Two of the students involved are from my house, after all." Her look however sent only two words. _Back off._

Snape stepped forwards, dark brows lowered ominously. "While that is a most generous offer Professor, I will handle Miss Greengrass myself." There was an edge to his voice had sent a shiver running up her spine, and she could see Pomma Sprout looking at him with a hint of fear.

"Professor Snape, I believe in this case I have to insist that I handle things. After the attack on Miss Greengrass by her own housemates yesterday, I do not believe she would be safe within her House." Pure venom was in her eyes as she glared at the Potions master. She'd always resented that Severus had been accepted as the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin in one go… something that rankled her deeply, as she had been teaching for ten years before being made Head of Gryffindor. And Snape was barely out of his teens when he was given such positions of power. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd also been made Deputy Headmaster if she hadn't already had the post!

Snape's eyes widened, clearly having got the implication that McGonagall had suggested. Then he scowled fiercely, eyes flashing with anger. There was also a mocking element to the flickers too, as if he was thinking _'I know you know, and I know you know that there's nothing you can do about it.'_

"Besides, I expect that all four of them are going to be staying in the Hospital Wing for a day or so while they recover from... last night." McGonagall continued, trying to make light of what she knew the four teens in question had been doing. She would not tell Dumbledore, not now.

The Headmaster looked at her over his glasses, a gesture he used as a form of intimidation. McGonagall held her ground and her gaze, not backing down an inch. She knew that he would not dare try to read her mind... not after the last time. Which had also been the first time.

However, she _did _feel a strong tug of loyalty to him, one that prompted her to tell him everything. Offsetting that though was what she had recently heard about how he had been handling things. She knew that she was going to have to take a close look at many things, soon. And maybe get her own head examined for charms too.

"Is there anything else, my dear?" That was so typical Dumbledore, McGonagall thought. A politely phrased question that was really a probe for information.

She hesitated before she replied. "Actually, there may be something..." She began, testing the headmaster.

"Yes? What, troubles you Professor, about what has happened?" The eager gleam in his eyes was there for only a fraction of a second, but she saw it. '_So... they were right.'_

"I was thinking... we may have to have one of the married quarters prepared for next year." McGonagall answered.

The surprise that rippled across Dumbledore's face was well hidden, but was so much greater than the displays on the other professor's faces. "Why so?" Dumbledore asked. '_Was that a hint or worry in your tone, Albus?'_

"Professor, the... experience those students have just gone through is going to affect them deeply." A mote of alarm entered Dumbledore's eyes as she continued. "I think it highly likely that they'll wish to remain close together in the near future. Separating them may prove disastrous."

"What are you saying?" Dumbledore was clearly on the back foot now.

"I expect that when they return next year, Harry is going to be engaged to, at least, one of them." McGonagall corrected herself softly, thinking back to some of the talks she had had with Sirius. "There might even be a Marriage Contract or two involved."

Snape snorted before Dumbledore could respond. "Typical Potter! The attention seeking brat!"

"For Merlin's sake Snape, give it a rest!" McGonagall snapped, her ire and outrage at the younger man boiling over. "Ever since he came to Hogwarts, I've heard nothing but insults, put downs and out-right slander regarding Harry coming from you! I know you and his father did not get along…" _'Understatement of EPIC proportions that, Minnie.' _"…But surely even you can see that he's NOT James! Harry is the most upright, honest and noble young man I know!" Her eyes were narrowed into fine slits of pure fury. If looks could kill, Snape would have been incinerated on the spot in a heartbeat. "Unlike you, I strive to act in a _professional_ manner at _all times_. _Especially _where my own House is concerned."

Snape scowled, his eyes blazing with pure hatred. Dark, murderous hatred.

Dumbledore's face however was pale. "They have _bonded_?" The fear in Dumbledore's voice was clear to McGonagall.

"Pomfrey is unsure." McGonagall levelled her stare at the Headmaster. "But even if there were no bonds formed, it would be kinder to those two young women if we gave them the option to transfer if they wish. You understand what some children at like…" Here her glare shifted to Snape again, who glared right back.

"I resent…" He began with a voice shaking with fury.

"Professor McGonagall is right, however." Dumbledore cut Snape off softly. He looked at McGonagall worriedly, but under her withering stare, he had to relent. "If they have an emotional bond between them, even if only a temporary one, having them separated for long periods could cause unforeseen problems." He seemed to sag within his robes. "Professor, I'll see to the paperwork. As of now, they are your responsibility." With that he turned and walked slowly away. Snape scowled once more, but turned and stalked off without a word, his robe billowing ominously behind him.

On his way down to the dungeons, the few students about all plastered themselves against the walls, the expression on his face terrifying them. Within his mind he seethed, even as he ignored the lingering ache in his forearm. Late last night the Dark Mark of his true Master burned, worse than it had when The Dark Lord applied it. It hadn't been a summons or a punishment though. Snape was at a loss to explain it, but he just _knew _Potter was responsible.

Releasing her breath, McGonagall turned to face Sprout. "Sorry to pinch one of your best…" She began.

Sprout waved her off, a small smile on her face. "Don't worry about it Minerva. I know you'll look after her, and you've got their best interests at heart." The smile faded a few seconds later however. "Serverus, however…"

McGonagall nodded, agreeing with her friend's fears. "You don't know the half of it, if what I've been told is true…"


	7. Aftershocks

A/N: Hey all, and welcome to this bonus update, due to the significance of the date to HP fans (though I personally don't understand the point of Halloween...)

Today, you'll discover the indenty of that Msytery witch... just hold off the flaming until AFTER you've read the section and the post note...

And before any of you say it again... yes, Draco IS going down... he WILL _suffer_... 'Bad Guys' in my stories **_ALWAYS_** get their just rewards... in the end...

EDIT: Just had a review point out a left over 'Daniel' from my initial draft! (*Doh!*) Fixed.

* * *

It was nearly twelve hours later when Hermione began to stir. Yawning, she tried to sit up... and found herself struggling. Lying back for the moment, she tried to put things together in her head.

'_We went down to the Great Hall to eat something... God, I've never ate so much at once before! How did I do that? Then what? Oh yea, I was so tired... and lonely... needed to see Harry... came to Hospital Wing... felt really drowsy... laid down...'_

Hermione opened her eyes fully, suddenly remembering where she had all but collapsed. Harry lay besides her, eyes still closed as he slept. She had stretched out besides him on the bed, very close to the edge. Across from her she could see Susan had done almost the same thing, her head resting by Harry's. Just beyond her, Hermione could see that the next bed along had been pushed up alongside, and Daphne was sprawled out on it. Susan was partially on both beds. Draped around them all were the lime green sheets that Pomfrey used to give her patients some privacy.

Reassured that she was not being watched, Hermione looked back at Harry... and found her heart melting even as a sappy smile formed on her face. He looked so peaceful asleep, forehead smooth, free of the frown lines that had creased it so much this last year. He breathed deeply and easily, totally relaxed.

She snuggled closer to him, almost burrowing into his side. In reflex his right arm wrapped around her shoulders, drawing her closer, prompting her smile to grow larger and a satisfied croon to emerge from her throat. She was exhausted, the insides of her thighs were sore as hell and there was an ache deep in her bowels, but Hermione felt a warm glow of satisfaction from within that blew away any discomfort. She could easily lie here forever...

A familiar shuffle above her prompted her to look up to see Hedwig sat on the top rim of the headboard, watching over her and Harry. A glance to the foot of the bed confirmed what she suspected after seeing the Snowy Owl: Crookshanks was curled up just beyond both their feet, two gleaming yellow eyes watching her. On the foot of the other bed a Barn Owl was perched, its gaze fixed on Susan. As if sensing her gaze, the head turned to look back at her for a moment before returning to watch the red-head.

"Looking after us, huh?" She half whispered jovially. The smile on her face however slowly dropped as her brain began to engage. Seeing her, Harry's and –she assumed - Susan's familiars had reminded her about the outside world... and how very shortly they would all return to their respective homes, unless she could put her half formed plan into action. Her arms tightened around Harry unconsciously as her thoughts reached the home that awaited Harry back in Surrey. Hermione had never understood why he had to stay with those horrible people, and the headmasters reasons as he had told them to Harry... well! She'd only ever got second hand accounts, but what she'd heard and pieced together from Harry's appearance when he returned from the summer made her blood boil! How could his own relatives treat him with such contempt!

As her mind whirled a certain look came over her face. It was one that those who knew Hermione Granger would recognise: An idea had formed and a new crusade had begun. The determined set of her features warned all to stay out of the way, for Hurricane Granger was coming, and nothing could stop her.

So intent on her thoughts was she that Hermione didn't react at first when Madam Pomfrey slipped through between two of the drapes. A low murmur of conversation came from just beyond them.

"Miss Granger?" Pomfrey had to repeat herself before she responded. As she looked over, the older witch caught a fraction of the look on her face before she smoothed her face. The glimpse sent a shiver running down the matron's spine. "I need you to release Mister Potter so I can examine you both." She looked across to the other two girls, both of whom were still sleeping. She heaved a small sigh. "I'll have to wake them both up too."

"I'll do that Miss." Hermione cut in as she started to disentangle herself from Harry.

Pomfrey looked at the determined young witched, then nodded slowly. "I'll be right back. Just don't wake young Harry." With that mild warning she slipped back out between the drapes.

"Huh. Like I'd do so right now." Hermione muttered to herself as she walked a trifle unsteadily around the end of the bed to reach Susan and Daphne. As she reached for her Hermione could see that Daphne was already stirring.

Blue eyes blinking sleepily, Daphne stretched her arms as she looked up at Hermione. "Hey... what time is it?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not sure, but Madam Pomfrey wants us all up for another examination." Hermione rolled her eyes, but Daphne could see that her friends mind was elsewhere. "Could you give Susan a nudge?"

When Pomfrey returned she found all three girls awake - though bleary eyed – sat around the still sleeping form of Harry Potter. Hermione was diving into her bag which rested before her, intent on something.

"Miss Granger, if you will allow me to examine you first, you can work on whatever it is that demands your attention." She looked sharply at the animals that were still around the bed, but got nothing but sharp looks back. Seeing that she would not win this fight, she drew her wand stepped over to stand by Hermione.

For the next few minutes her attention was totally focused on her readings and spell work. When she was done she looked Hermione in the eye.

"You are a very lucky young lady, Miss Granger. It does not appear that your… activities, have set back your recovery by much. However, you are going to have to take things easy for the next month, at least!" She waited until she saw Hermione nod in understanding before she moved on to Susan.

Without bothering to do her shirt up fully, Hermione dived back into her bag and drew out her quill and parchment. Getting comfortable, she frowned as she considered how to ask her parents to help her with her plan...

* * *

Down in the Slytherin Common Room Draco sat on what he considered 'his' chair, an ugly scowl on his face. Around him were his 'friends'... the other offspring from Death Eaters or sympathiser families. Each wore a glum, frustrated expression.

"What do we do now Draco?" Nott asked, his tone frustrated. "Ever since you lot got caught..."

"I know!" Draco hissed. "I'm thinking!"

Shifting in his chair Draco looked about the vaulted Common Room, scowling all the while. Macmillan must have blabbed to the rest of his duffer house, and from the Puffs the Hogwarts rumour mill had spread the cause for the sudden, massive deductions to Slytherin House. Their house Points could be counted on one hand, with fingers left over! The Great Hall had been over-boiling with disgust, and all directed at their small space.

What was most galling however was the reaction from the others in their _own_ house! The half dozen older students who were sympathetic – and occasionally participated - now looked at them with disgust for getting caught. The rest of their House seethed with hatred and vindication, icy glares and scowls directed at them. The other boys clearly stated that they were nothing like Draco and his friends, Even those who were known to be believers in the Pureblood cause, such as Zabrini, clearly considered them all to be the lowest forms of life.

The younger witches – their regular 'playthings' – hung together and glared with pure hate, often accompanied by the older ones, who looked at them like they were the scum they scraped off their boots, almost daring them to try and start something.

Draco scowled as he watched as the Second Years – escorted by the Seventh Year Prefect and a pair of Third Year boys – cross the Common Room, all the while sending angry looks at him. Damn that mudblood Granger! Draco was ordained to rule Slytherin House, to do with those within as he saw fit! He was born of a Truly Noble Line, destined to be the Right Hand of the Dark Lord Voldermort himself! And he would have the pleasures and benefits of such a position! His father had enjoyed the same pleasures in his time, though back then he had had to conduct such activities in the privacy of his private room when he made Prefect. It gave Draco a thrill to know that he was following his fathers footsteps.

Of course things had changed since his Fathers time. With the Dark Lord once more in the ascendant, the time had come that he was able to assert his dominance over Slytherin House. While in the past the witches were subservient to the most powerful males in the House, it had been discrete, an unspoken pleasure often the privilege of the Prefects and the Seventh Years. Now those who were Better could exert their power openly, showing just how superior they were. Until lately, even the Sixth Years had to give way to him. And if to do so entailed a public gang-bang of a dissenter in the ranks, all the better!

But now... Granger had ruined everything he'd gained over the last three years! And that traitor Greengrass continued defiance was inspiring the other, younger witches to resist. The last time he tried to have one of the Second Years relieve him, she had not dropped to her knees on demand, but had pulled her wand and threatened him! HIM! How dare some snot-nosed half-blood threaten the future Right Hand of Voldermort! Before he could punish the little brat however, her friends had also pulled their wands, as had at least five other witches before the Seventh Year Prefect had walked over, hands on her hips and glaring at him. Despite the bile in his throat, Draco had been forced to back down.

Full of frustration and anger, he'd determined to find and take Greengrass before night that day. The announcement at diner that night, directing all students to return to their dormitories at once, had been a godsend. Seeing her fleeing, he'd used the general confusion to place a tracking spell on her robes. Once they had all gathered, a quick check had revealed that she had not returned to the Common Room. A few words with Severus and he'd set off with his friends, a evil smirk on his face.

Then Granger had turned up! In moments she had completely taken them all down, and then humiliated him! She was going to pay, oh yes she was! And that buxom bitch puff Bones too, for shoving him aside to reach the traitor!

And as for Greengrass... Severus had let him know about what those three witches had done last night. Giving herself to _Potter_, of all people! And they'd _somehow_ cured him of the curse Draco had hit him with! Despite the appeal of it, Draco knew that he would not cast that again. It had nearly made him collapse after he cast it. It had taken all his willpower to get to his feet after Potter had sent him flying. Ever since, his magic had been weak, barely working. It had taken four tries before his hair grooming spell worked this morning! Although he would never admit it, he doubted that he could even summon the power right now to make a stunner strong enough to make someone woozy!

Blast Greengrass for taking that book! He'd let her go at first because he knew as a Prefect he could simply use his powers to have her bag searched and 'confiscate' it. But when'd he done so after morning class the next day, she didn't have it! What had the bitch done with it? He'd glossed over the over spells, hunting for the one his father had recommended he look at. Now he could not learn the others, some of which would have been _very _entertaining!

As he looked about slowly, he remembered something Severus had told him yesterday. McGonagall was pushing for the transfer of Greengrass to her House! Stupid old witch! You can't just change a persons House! It was then he realised something. It was more than likely that McGonagall would speak to Greengrass and Bones in her office about this, so if they waited and watched...

His scowl twisted into a smile as his eyes landed on two witches – one in their year, one in Third – who were stood talking quietly between themselves. An extra way to punish Greengrass came to mind. He considered those who Bones and Granger hung out with, but reluctantly decided it be too difficult to reach them.

"Listen up. Here's what we'll do..."

* * *

Amelia Bones stood waiting in the middle of Hogwarts Hospital Wing, her stern gaze fixed on the shrouded corner... within which her favourite niece was getting a check up. When her old friend Minerva McGonagall had called her, asking her to come up to the School, her heart had lodged in her throat from fear. She had always been much closer to Susan than any of her other nieces and nephews, and with Susan living with her ever since her parents died in that terrible fire... She didn't know how she would cope if she had died.

Fortunately, when she'd arrived at the school McGonagall had quickly eased her concerns on that score. But still, there was cause for concern. She had explained the series of events. Harry being cursed, how Susan had joined two other witches in curing him... Amelia was understandably anxious to see her niece.

At last the drapes moved a little, and Susan stepped out. Amelia's long experience with Law enforcement allowed her to see just how weary and tired Susan was, how she walked a little awkwardly. But she could also see that there was something new, a confidence and joy that had not been there since her parents had passed away. She watched as the girl – no young woman – looked back at the enclosed space before facing forwards once more... and meeting her gaze. She froze, eyes wide.

"Susan."

"Aunt Amelia..." Susan's voice caught, her eyes starting to gleam with unshed tears.

Madam Pomfrey leaned out between the drapes. "You can use my office if you wish." She called.

"Thank you." Amelia called back, not taking her eyes off her niece. She understood what the nurse was offering them; privacy.

Half a second after the office door was closed Amelia found her niece hugging her tightly. "Auntie... I..."

"Shhh... it's all right. It's all right." Amelia spoke softly as she gently stroked Susan's long red hair. As she did she felt her own feelings regarding the situation change. She would be ashamed to admit, but her first reaction to McGonagall's news had been anger and indignation. What had her level-headed and law-abiding niece been thinking? As McGonagall had explained further she had felt such thoughts lessen, but it was not till this moment that she let them go. Oh, she was still absolutely livid at Albus-bloodly-Dumbledore for allowing things to escalate to this level, but the man was almost unassailable. He'd been proven right after a whole year of slander; trying to go against him now would be suicide. The man was just too powerful, too connected and had too much support to even allow a hint of wrong-doing to gain a foothold. For the moment however, she'd focus on her niece.

After a couple of minutes she drew back a little and gently pulled her niece over to a sofa along the wall. Sitting down on one end, she directed Susan onto the other so she could look at her face easily. "Why?" She asked gently.

Susan sniffed back some more tears before she answered. "It was the right thing to do Aunt. The curse on Harry..." She shivered. "...It gave me nightmares just thinking about it. We had to do something."

"But why you?" That was the question that was dominating Amelia's mind.

"Hermione. We've become good friends over these last few years. She's a good person. They all are. We... me and Daph'... knew that she'd try to save Harry herself, but that she'd fail. Not even she could save him alone. But if we... participated..." More tears began to form.

Amelia drew her close once more, hugging Susan to herself. A small smile formed as she worked through what she had been told. Susan had been loyal to her friends no matter the cost... a true Hufflepuff.

After a minute she spoke once more. "Do you regret what you did?" She said as she allowed Susan to sit up a bit.

A happy smile formed on Susan's face, her eyes sparkled. "Not one bit. It was... incredible! I've never felt so loved so... fulfilled, before!"

Amelia couldn't stop the smile that twisted her own lips at the joy that filled her Niece. She remembered when she had first enjoyed sex. It had been at a similar age too.

Susan glanced to where the main wing was, prompting a narrowing of Amelia's eyes. There was something else going on here...

"Susan... will there be any... side effects, of this?" She asked with concern, covering a range of thoughts.

Susan whipped her head back to look at her. "No! I mean... I don't think so..." She wrapped her arms around herself. "We did use protection. Hermione loaned us her supplies." She blushed and looked away. "Uh... it's not the right time of the month for me anyway."

"But?" Amelia asked, sensing that there was more.

Susan sighed deeply. "I feel... drawn to them." She half whispered. "I... want to be with them, be close to them. All of them really, but especially Harry and Hermione. I mean... I know how trouble happens around them, Harry in particular."

Amelia chuckled. "He does seem to be a trouble magnet, doesn't he?"

Susan laughed a little too. "It positively seeks him out." She sobered again. "But... I don't know how to explain it... but I feel that those two are important. Staying near them may be dangerous, but... it might also be the safest place to be."

Amelia nodded slowly, understanding her niece's confusion. "Truly great people often have that air around them in troubled times. And we are certainly heading for those." A shiver ran down both their spines. Amelia looked at her niece for a long moment, then made a decision.

"Susan, listen to me." She leaned forwards, conspiratorially. "I strongly doubt Fudge will remain Minister much longer. I also suspect I'd be one of the favourites to replace him, if the Wizengamot can get over its sexist bias. That makes me a target." Susan's face paled, but she remained silent as Amelia continued to speak. "I know what you mean about Harry. There are rumours that he's the one who'll bring down who-kno..." Amelia stopped, gritted her teeth, and forced herself to stop cowering. "Voldermort. He'll be in danger, but I think – no, I _know_ – that if you are behind him, he'll win." She pulled Susan tighter to her.

"I may not live to see his downfall. But I don't want you grieving for me for the rest of your life if I should fall. Live your life, my dear, and stay close to those two. They are truly gifted."

Susan hiccupped. "So... you wouldn't mind if I stayed at Hermione's place for the whole summer?" At her aunt's critical look, she blushed. "Hermione mentioned the idea earlier."

Amelia thought about it before nodded. "No, I don't mind at all. It might be best actually." She sighed. "If I'm right about Fudge, I'm going to have almost no time at home this coming summer, so you'd be alone almost all the time. Besides, it would do you some good to see how Muggles live."

Susan smiled happily before wrapping her arms around Amelia in another hug. "Thanks Aunty."

Amelia smiled warmly as she hugged her niece, tears starting to form in her own eyes.

* * *

Eyes snapped open, wide and startled. Where was she? What had happened? The ceiling above her was stained and old, ancient cobwebs clinging to the walls, caked in dust. Slowly she sat up to look around. She was on the floor, the warped wooden boards grimy and dusty. The few items of furniture she could see were old and mouldy. Where ever she was, it was certainly not home.

Just what happened to her? She raked her brain, trying to remember. Her head ached, which didn't help matters any. She started to bring a hand up to her forehead, but the sight of her hand made her freeze in shock. How could that bony, pale thing be her hand? It was little more than skin, bone and tendons!

With mounting dread she looked over herself. The robes she wore were dirty, faded, hanging loose from her frame. What happened to her figure, the fullness of her flesh? What had happened to turn her into this gaunt, shrivelled thing?

A sharp pain in her left arm made her gasp, and she looked down at it. Another gasp escaped her when her eyes alighted on the burnt skin beneath the slashed and blood stained cloth that covered her inner arm just below the elbow. Indeed, she appeared to have minor cuts and large bruises all along and over the arm, with a few larger cuts interspersed in the mix. A vague memory of being thrown against a table with a number of empty bottles and glasses came to her, the glass breaking under her, but she couldn't remember who did it, or why.

Forcing herself to her feet, she staggered towards one of the doors, beyond which she'd seen a bathroom. Like the rest of this place it was dirty and decrepit, but the water in the sink ran. Gritting her teeth she torn away the ruined sleeve before washing the wounds. Black flecks came away as she scrubbed at the burnt area, raw skin revealed. Shooting pains tore up her arm but she kept at it, looking up into the mirror as she did.

The image that looked back almost made her freeze. Was that really her? Her face was drawn, haggard, pale like a ghoul. Her hair was a wild, tangled mess. Folds of loose skin clung to her neck, and her teeth were dark and stained. Even her eyes were not the same, darkened almost to black. _'What have you done to yourself Bella?'_

Once she had her arm as clean as she could she felt around her hips, looking for a wand. Once she found it she started casting healing charms over the wounds, anxious eyes focused on her task. At least her magic appeared to be alright. Slowly the burnt area shrank, revealing the slashes that had preceded the burn. As they started to close, she noted that some of the burns remained. After a few more seconds however she froze, the spell ending as her concentration fled.

The burn had spread outwards from a dark tattoo on her arm, jet black against her skin. It was broken and ruined by the cuts, but she could make out what looked like a skull, and the head of a snake below it...

Her blood turned to ice. She knew only one image that contained those elements.

The Dark Mark.

The mark of Voldermort.

'_What have I done?'_

As if in answer to her question, Bellatrix LeStrange remembered. Everything.

She'd returned home after her Sixth Year at Hogwarts to find that her parents had arranged a marriage between her and Rodolphus LeStrange. It was a politically motivated marriage, but the two LeStrange boys seemed nice enough. Within a week, she was wed.

Her wedding night was her first night at her new families home... and the masks had come off. Her husband had shared her with his brother, and the two of them had brutally taken her over and over. By the morning she'd been in tears, hurting and terrified. Neither brother had shown her any compassion, and had punished her for her weakness.

Day's turned into weeks, and she'd remained their personal toy. They were violent, harsh men, often tying her down and beating her. She had quickly realised that she'd been married to a sadistic monster. Pain was her only constant.

When they returned to Hogwarts, the three of them had moved into married quarters off of the Slytherin Common Room, and while the brutal 'games' had lessened to a degree, they had not stopped. The two were very careful to not leave any marks were others might see them.

Then, early in the first term, there had been a spark of hope. A child! She'd figured that once they knew, they'd stop with their games, stop the beatings, the ravaging of her body.

It had not. She'd pleaded with them, begged, if only for the sake of their child. But the two monsters had only laughed.

Finally, it had happened. They'd gone home for Christmas break, and the two animals had taken her viscously that first night. Terrible pain had ran through her, she had honestly thought she was going to die.

Somehow, she had survived. But the unborn child had not.

The loss had broken her, plunging her into the dark well of madness.

Atrocity after horror after crime ran through her mind. "No, No, NO!" She screamed, desperate for the images to stop. But they continued, a display of all the worst actions a person could do, all seen from the eyes of the perpetrator. She fell to the floor, shrieking in horror and anguish as the last thirty years of her life flashed before her eyes. She curled into a ball, whimpering.

That was how her younger sister Narcissa found her, curled up on the floor, sobbing. "Bella?" She asked softly before tentatively stepping forwards and kneeling by her oldest sister. "Bella?" she asked again, gently laying a hand on her shoulder.

Bellatrix froze for a moment, before bursting in action. Both her arms shot around her sister, drawing her into a bone-crushing hug as her sobs turned into wails of anguish that she buried in Narrcissa's shoulder.

Stunned at first by the sudden action, it was a few seconds before Narcissa resounded, her arms going round her sister... the sister who was considered by all – including herself – psychopathically insane. And was now crying like a child in her arms. "Bella?" She asked again, shocked.

For several long minutes the only sounds were from Bellatrix's sobs, but finally Narcissa felt her move. Then she spoke.

"What have I become 'Cissa?' What am I now?" Bella slowly sat up, but her head remained tipped forwards, her eyes hidden.

Narcissa's eyes were widened in shock. Her voice was no longer harsh; it was softer, more feminine… more like her own. She remembered how she had changed when they returned to Hogwarts after that summer, almost fearful of her husband. And then she'd changed again after Christmas... it had scared her, her older sisters' new attitude. A crazy light had danced in her eyes then, one that terrified anyone caught in them. She'd started the baby talk when she was taunting someone… which was nearly everyone. Her smile had become tinged with sadistic glee, and only ever showed when someone else was in pain.

But this... this was more like the Bella of her early years. Was it just possible that she had returned?

Bella now lifted her head, looking her sister in the eye. Tear tracks ran down her gaunt cheeks, while her eyes were now their original brown colour, the dark madness gone. But they were filled with anguish. "What am I sis?" She sobbed, before her wand came up, pointing towards her own head.

With a speed she didn't know she had, Narcissa grabbed her hand, stopping her from completing the motion. "No Bella! This isn't the way!"

Bella gritted her teeth. "Damn it Cissa, let me go! I can't... I can't live like this! Do you know what I've done?"

Narcissa looked her in the eye. "And what about what _I've_ done?" She asked sharply. Bella froze, her eyes searching.

"I've stood aside and watched as my bastard of a husband twisted and corrupted the government. I've watched him mould the sole son I bore into a darker, crueller version of himself… the son I loved more than anything or anyone. That bastard's taken him from me. I've had more affection from the _House Elves _than from my own Husband! I've had to support him and keep my mouth shut while he murdered on a whim! Any time I tried to speak up, speak out, he was there, that dammed torture curse on his lips!" Tears were now running down her own cheeks to match her sisters.

"But what can we do, sis?" Bella wailed, all strength fading. "We can't escape... I'm dammed already. You still have a chance."

Narcissa shook her head. "The day after my marriage, I spoke with Sirius. He promised..." She trailed as she saw the look of devastation on her sisters' face.

"Cissa, I _killed _him! It was _my _spell that sent him through the Veil of Death! There's nothing he can do!"

Narcissa Malfoy felt a chill run up her spine. Sirius dead? But he'd promised... Her grief threatened to overcome her, but a desperate hope flickered into life, feeble though it was.

"Maybe he set out a will... between his escape and... what happened. You remember how he was with promises. He'd ask the new Lord Black to honour his wishes..."

Bella snorted. "He won't. Draco's the only one who could be the next Lord Black. There's no way that - I'm sorry 'Cissa - little snot's going to honour a 'Blood Traitor's' last request."

Narcissa almost succumbed to grief, but then a stray memory came to her.

"No... there is one other..."

* * *

Emma Granger slowly laid the letter down on the kitchen worktop, her eyes glazed over. The letter had been sat on the counter, and at first sight of the green ink used her heart had paused. She'd opened it with extreme trepidation. Outside night was falling, an appropriate metaphor for how she felt. How could this have happened? How could her bright, darling daughter have gotten mixed up with such disreputable types?

A frown creased her forehead as she re-read one section of the letter again. Something didn't make sense here. Hermione had told them about her school life, but both parents knew that she hadn't completely told them everything. But they also knew her well enough that she would not hide stuff from them. If they asked, she would tell.

But the one thing that was blindingly clear through all her letters and discussions was that Harry Potter was very important to her, and there was not a more honest, upright and morally centred person around. He would never be involved in anything like this.

"Hey... what's the matter?" Emma looked up to see her husband Nathan stood in the doorway wrapped up in his dressing gown, a concerned look on his face.

She sighed. "I found this letter when I came through to fix our drinks." She held up the letter. "It's from Hermione's school Headmaster."

Nathan paled slightly before stepping forwards to sit on the other stool by the worktop. "What's happened?" He asked nervously.

"According to the Headmaster, she's..." Emma was interrupted before she could detail the Headmasters claims by the entrance of a snowy owl through the open kitchen window. The sudden appearance caused both adults to jump in surprise, but they both recognised Hedwig from the other times that Hermione had used her to send them letters. After tucking her wings in, Hedwig held out her right leg towards Emma, on which was clearly a tightly wound scroll.

Sharing a confused look with her husband, Emma stood up to take deliver of the letter. Hermione was due to return home the day after tomorrow, so what could be so urgent that it could not wait till then? As she sat down and opened the letter, Emma was aware of Nathan stepping round to stand behind her to read over her shoulder.

'_Mum & Dad,_

_I don't know if the Headmaster has told you anything yet, but something happened the other day. I'm fine, a little sore and tired, but otherwise fine. No worse than I was a couple days ago._

_However... Harry recently was cursed by that foul evil little cockroach, and it took drastic measures, on the part of myself and my friends, to cure him. Since then, the four of us have been feeling very close, and I need your help with this matter. Harry's home life is horrible, and I can not stand the thought of him having to go back there this time, even before all this._

_Basically, I want to bring Harry, and my other two friends Susan and Daphne, home to stay with us over the holiday._

_I feel that it is vital that at the very least Harry escape his relative this summer. The events of the previous week really took their toll on him, and right now he's even more vulnerable._

_I know this is a big step, but right now my only concern is Harry's well being – something I no longer think the Headmaster is concerned about. He needs a place where he is welcomed and looked after, not one where he's despised. He needs time to heal, to recover... and to grieve. He won't get that at Privet Drive, nor from the Headmaster._

_Please help me here. I just know that I'll be frantic all summer if I don't know what's happening with him... if he's not with me where I can keep an eye on him. He's a wonderful young man, but he has such terrible burdens and relatives. I know you'll like him, as well as Susan and Daphne._

_Love,_

_Hermione.'_

For a long moment the two adults looked at the letter, before they looked at each other, concern in their features.

"You think she's..." He trailed off, unwilling to actually say it.

Emma nodded to Nathan's unspoken question. "We should have expected it Nathan. He's the only boy she knows well and likes. Her other friend, Ron... I don't think she actually likes him, just tolerates."

Nathan leaned against the counter, looking at the Headmasters letter. "Did you get the impression that she was asking us to trust her rather than the Headmaster?"

"So you picked that up too?" Emma replied, shifting uneasily. "But if he's lying, what happened? She didn't actually say..."

"Doesn't matter." Nathan cut in. "Between a man I've never met and our daughter, I'll pick her every time." He frowned slightly. "Though... how are we going to accommodate another three teens?"

Emma waved his concern off. "I'll tidy the spare bedroom. It needs doing anyway. Harry can use the futon in the upstairs study." She turned towards where the owl was still sat, looking at her. Was it her imagination, or was she looking at them impatiently? "Right now, I think we should send a reply..."

* * *

A/N: He he, yep I couldn't resist having Hermione's mum called 'Emma'. Managed to resist calling her Father 'Daniel'... though there will be a 'Daniel Granger' later... (grins)

Now, as to Bella... I have seen a number of 'Redeem Bellatrix' stories here, and they often use a Family Oath, or some other means to change her Aliegence. But I want to try something rather different.

She is considered insane in every story and in canon. However, me being me - willing to trend in places others are reluctant to - asked the question: WHY is she insane? People aren't born insane (at least, not that level of insanity), so she must have been driven insane. But what could have done that? This back-story is what crawlled out of the dark, murky corners of my mind. Now, I'm NOT a fan of BSDM of anything like that, but it fits so well not only as a means to drive someone insane, but also with the generally nastier DE's in this story (truthfully, they were _implied _to be just as nasty in Canon, it's just JKR never showed the results or anything) that I used it. I hope that you are willing to let me try this idea out.

And I know that in Canon, the Malfoys were focused on and devoted to each other, above their devotion to Voldie, but I wrote this before I saw that on the Lexion...


	8. Redrawing the Lines

A/N: I'm so pleased that the whole Bella plot angle has been accepted so readily... so my word useage in my end A/N could have been better...

Fair warning: Draco tries something again now. But he does suffer. I'm a bit concerned I took the retrebuition a bit far... want a minute, this is _Draco_, ANY level is fine! (I hope...)

And this is another one of those 'anti-Ron-&-Ginny' chapters. But I do plan to redeem them, at least to some degree...

Just a quick point: Many of you have asked how Dumbledore, Snape et all can get away with what they've done. Here's something to consider: The Magical World's social-political climate is closer to 1600 than 2000. There weren't the same checks, proceedures, and expectations of teachers back then. Corruption was rife (okay, it still is, but they have to be more discreet nowadays) Throw in the whole 'Shadow of the Dark Lord' in, and the Sheep-like nature of the magical population...

Also... Those three (Dumbles, Snape and Draco) have what I term a 'plot aegis' right now. I _need _them to remain where they are, as much as I don't like it. But those aegis's are fading fast... Draco will be the first... D

* * *

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief when she saw Daphne stand up from the Slytherin table and walk out of the hall. The thought of them going down to the main hall that morning to eat had been nerve-racking for the three of them, since they had to separate, with Daphne alone at the Slytherin table. Both Hermione and Susan had agreed to keep an eye on her while she was there... and to watch for anyone following her when she left. She'd managed to sit far away from the others who would harm her, though it was a little incongruous to see a Fifth Year sat within a group of Third Years. The size difference alone was jarring. Now that dinner was over she should be safe, as Dobby had almost begged to collect her belongs from her dorm in the dungeons…

A burst of laughter made her look further up the Gryffindor table, to where Ginny was once more holding court. It appeared that she had changed boyfriends yet again. That was, what, the fifth this year? And all a year older...

"How's Harry?" Neville's quiet question snapped Hermione out of her train of thought and she turned back to look at him. He was, so far, the only one who was publicly still behind her and Harry.

"He's doing a bit better. Still sleeping most of the time, and terribly weak. I just hope..." Hermione was cut off however when an owl cry came from above. Looking up, she felt her heart speed up as she saw it was Hedwig spiralling down towards her. When she landed she held out her right leg, on which was a crisply rolled sheet of note paper. Her fingers trembling slightly, Hermione gently undid the knot that held the note to Hedwig. After ensuring that Hedwig had ample bacon and water around her – she had flown all the way down the country yesterday, and all the way back overnight and today – Hermione tool a deep breath. Unrolling it, she read through the short letter.

'_Dear Hermione,_

_Your friends will be very welcome here, provided you come clean about what happened to prompt the letter from your headmaster that arrived just before yours._

_Love,_

_Mum & Dad.'_

Feeling a surge of relief roll through her, Hermione stood up to go talk to Susan...

"Before you go Miss Granger, I need a word with you."

McGonagall's voice stopped her cold. Hermione turned around slowly, slightly fearful. Her anxiety must have bled through her expression, since McGonagall's softened slightly.

"I just need yourself and your friends to attend to my office in an hour's time." She said gently.

Hermione nodded. "Yes Professor."

McGonagall looked at the muggle note she still held in her hand. "Your parents reply?"

Hermione couldn't stop the smile appearing. "Yes, and yes."

McGonagall nodded slowly, a smile trying to form on her features. "Well, I won't keep you..."

Smiling in gratitude, Hermione swiftly turned and strode out of the hall. She didn't know it, but Ron's eyes followed her the whole way, an odd gleam in them.

Susan was waiting for her, and together they started walking towards the Hospital Wing, all without saying a word. As they walked they subconsciously stayed close to each other, their hands almost touching. Neither young woman was aware of their proximity.

They entered the Hospital Wing side by side. As they had known, Daphne was already there, sat on the edge of a bed, facing Harry's still sleeping form. _'At least he's getting some decent sleep now.' _Hermione thought ruefully. Quietly the two of them sat down alongside her, Susan in the middle. After a few minutes of silently watching Harry Hermione sighed.

"McGonagall wants to see us in her office in..." She raised her right arm, her eyes jumping to her watch for a moment. "...Three quarters of an hour."

"What about?" Daphne asked quietly.

Hermione shrugged. "Not sure. I guess whatever she figured would protect you from your housemates." Daphne shivered slightly but didn't respond. Her mind was thinking about her little Sister Astoria, just finishing her Third Year. Draco had already boosted that he'd make certain to get her at the start of next term…

After a couple more minutes, Susan spoke up. "Was that Hedwig that I saw land by you just before we left the hall Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, although all their eyes were still on Harry. "Yes, it was. My parents agreed to my idea."

Although none of them made a sound, there was a palpable sense of relief shared between the three young women. Each had worried about what the summer holiday would bring. Hermione had dreaded the idea of Harry returning to his abusive and horrible relatives in his still fragile state. Susan's mind was still turning over what her aunt had told her. Daphne was trying to think of a way to safeguard her sister next year. All three had found themselves dreading the idea of being separated from each other and Harry, though they could not pin down _why _they felt that way.

But now things were looking up. The critical adult response, Hermione's parents, had been favourable. Susan knew she already had permission, and Daphne knew that her father, while she knew he loved her dearly, would be so absorbed in his work that he likely wouldn't notice. Her mother would agree, as she was the one in the family that was the most open towards other cultures and muggles.

Now all they needed was a way for Harry to join them.

Hermione looked at her watch again, and was startled to see that time had raced by while they had been sat there. "Come on, we need to go." She said standing up.

Together the three girls walked down the halls towards the Transfiguration classroom. Hermione was about to knock on the door to McGonagall's office when an unpleasant and highly unwelcome voice resounded down the corridor.

"Well, if it isn't Scarheads three whores."

Her hand curling into fists, Hermione turned to face the approaching Draco Malfoy. Flanked as ever by Crabbe and Goyle he strode down the corridor like he owned it. Behind his thugs, Hermione saw Pansy and Millicent. She was aware of Daphne shrinking back behind herself and Susan as her housemates approached.

Malfoy stopped a few feet away from her, a sneer on his face as he looked over them. "Time's up bitches. We've got a score to settle with you three… especially you, Granger."

"In your dreams Malfoy." Hermione snarled back, her hand dropping towards her wand. Her motion was stopped however when she saw the four wands that were now pointed towards her and her friends. A muttered curse from her left shoulder confirmed that Susan had also noticed. Even these particular students couldn't miss at a range of three feet.

"Not so fast mudblood." Malfoy cackled, but then his expression turned harsh. "Drop your wands and kick them over to me." When none of them moved to comply his face darkened. "Do it, or we'll stun you where you stand, then take them off you... along with your clothes." Crabbe and Goyle chuckled and grinned evilly, if stupidly.

Hermione's heart and mind raced, looking for an out. But there was none, and while the idea of giving up her wand to these... _monsters _turned her stomach, having them stun her and strip her while she was unconscious was even more terrifying.

Slowly, reluctantly, she drew her wand by two fingers before stooping down and setting down on the floor, her eyes never leaving Draco as she did. _'If only you were here Harry...'_ She thought as the other two girls set their wands down as well.

Across the school a raven-haired teen sat up in bed abruptly, his green eyes darting about frantically. Spotting his wand lying on top of some parchment, he grabbed it before racing out of the Hospital Wing.

"Better." Draco said as the three wands rolled to stop by his feet. Reaching down he plucked them off the floor, holding them in one hand as with his other he drew a wand from within his robes.

"I thought your wands had been confiscated." Susan asked bewildered.

"I took them back off McGonagall's desk." Malfoy seemed inordinately proud of that fact. The smirk dropped from his face. "Now move." He flicked his wand, indicating the way he wanted them to go. Faced with no choice, the three girls began to walk.

Conscious of the fear that was almost paralysing her, Hermione and Susan walked each side of Daphne, almost holding her up. Hermione could feel her trembling. "It's going to be alright Daph'." She whispered. "We'll be okay."

"No, it won't." Draco cut in smugly. "In here." He gestured to a classroom they were about to pass. Inside, Hermione was unable to prevent a small gasp escaping her lips. Ron, Ginny and another two Slytherin girls were tied up at far end of the room. Ron seemed to be trying to get as far away from the dark-haired girl as she could. Nott was stood before them, leering at the older Slytherin girl. She simply glared darkly right back. To her side was a smaller, younger blond whose head was bowed. The faint sound of weeping could be heard.

"Tracy?" Daphne spoke, clearly confused. The witch looked away from Nott, her eyes meeting Daphne's startled blue ones. Her own widened slightly in surprise as the younger girls head shot up. Hermione's eyes widened when she saw her face; the resemblance to Daphne was clear. "Story?" Daphne gasped in horror.

"Like you Greengrass, these two hasn't put out like they should." Draco stated from behind them as he closed the door. He waved his wand, prompting a squelching sound to come from the door. "There. Now we won't be disturbed." He grinned evilly.

"Oh, learned your lesson?" Hermione asked with heavy sarcasm. She tried to ignore the looks she was getting from Ron, a sickening mixture of lust and outrage.

Draco snarled, before stepping swiftly up and backhanding Hermione across the face. Ron tried to jump up, but his bindings made him fall flat on his face. Daphne paled, while Susan lunged at Draco only to be held back by Crabbe.

Hermione winced as her cheek stung, but faced the little ferret once again. "That the best you can do Draco? I can hit harder than that!"

Draco scowled as his face turned a nasty shade of puce. "You'll be first, mudblood!" He looked toward Parkinson and Bulstrode. "Hold her."

The two lumbering Slytherin girls latched onto Hermione's arms, pulling her shoulders taunt. A scuffle to her left told Hermione that Goyle must had grabbed Daphne, but her attention was fixed on Malfoy as he stepped towards her. "Crabbe, Goyle, soften those two up a little." The sound of tearing fabric each side of her chilled Hermione's blood as Draco stepped into her personal space.

"Now then, let's see what you've been hiding…" He half whispered as he grabbed her shirt collar.

Suddenly he yanked hard on her clothing, and Hermione was unable to stifle a gasp of pain as her shirt pressed on her injury before it started to tear. Malfoy learned forwards a bit, his eyes gazing down the front of her torn shirt. They widened as he looked.

"My my… that is nice…" Hermione almost choked on his breath, but she managed to keep her head clear enough to realise he was about tear her shirt open completely. Acting on instinct her knee shot up between his legs, slamming into his crotch with a sicken crunch.

"Grk!" Malfoy exclaimed in a high pitched, pain filled voice as he staggered backwards bent almost double. His face was even whiter than normal, while his hands were down clutching at his crotch. Unaware of the pained winces that the other males in the room were sporting, Hermione took a deep breathe.

"Honestly Malfoy, have you heard of mouthwash? Your breath stinks!"

Slowly he lifted his head, his face a contorted mixture of pain and rage. "That… was your last mistake… mudblood!" He snarled out between gasps. He thrust his chin towards a table.

Hermione found herself being dragged backwards and forced to lie flat on a table, her legs hanging over the edge. Parkinson and Bolstrode each grabbed one and dragged them apart, pulling her feet painfully behind a table leg, using their own considerable bodies to prevent her freeing them.

To each side Susan and Daphne could only watch in horror and fear as Malfoy straightened slowly before stepping between their friends spread legs, his hands started to tear her skirt…

Then the door exploded.

Wood splinters whistled through the room, clattering off the floor. A couple lodged themselves in Malfoy's back, causing him to arch in pain. Everyone's gaze snapped to the now blown open doorway.

To see a very, very pissed off Harry Potter.

"Oh crap." Ron muttered. He'd never since Harry THIS mad before. He'd seen him angry, but this was a whole new level.

Hermione however felt relief course through her at the sight of him. Although he was just stood there, Harry was _radiating_ power and charisma. He just looked so damned sexy! A small gasp escaped her lips.

Draco however had other things on his mind. Like the look in Harry's eyes as he stared at him. It was a look of a predator about to strike on its prey. His green eyes seemed to be almost aflame. "Potter!"

"Leave them alone Malfoy." Harry snarled.

Draco spun round, his hand going for his wand. "Get him!" He cried. Around him Parkinson, Bulstrode, Crabbe and Goyle all released their captives and went for their wands. At the back Nott spun around too, his own wand in play.

Harry was faster though. His wand came up and around so fast it was a blur. Five red bolts stabbed out, slamming into the other Slytherins and sending them flying backwards. Nott crashed heavily into the wall behind the other captives, a nasty sounding crack echoing as he struck. The others ploughed into the desks that lined the room, breaking some as they did. Though from the sounds, it might not have been just the desks breaking.

Malfoy's wand came up, but a sixth red bolt leap from Harry and sent it flying out his hand and sailing towards Harry. Stepping forwards, Harry snatched the wand out of the air with the natural ease of a true Seeker, his eyes never leaving Malfoy.

Malfoy's own widened in horror when Harry casually snapped it against his thigh. The sound of the broken wooden pieces striking the floor seemed to echo as Harry stepped up to Draco, who in a panic spun round reaching for Hermione. No one would know what he intended to do however, as he was met by her fist smashing into his jaw, making him stagger backwards… directly towards the still approaching Harry.

Draco, dazed by her thunderous right hook, felt himself be grabbed by the shoulder and turned around. His eyes met the baleful green glare of Harry's.

Barely a second before Harry's own fist struck his gut.

As Malfoy bent double once more Harry seemed to enter a berserker rage, his fist raining down again and again on Draco. For several seconds everyone else looked on in shock, before Hermione pushed herself to her feet and snagged his arm as he raised it again. "Harry that's enough!"

Harry froze, one hand raised in a fist, knuckles bruised, ready to descend again. His other was holding the bloodied Draco down. Not that he needed to as the ferret had fallen unconscious. Slowly he looked up at her face. Hermione sent all the reassurance she could through her expression, and with a groan Harry lunged for her, his arms wrapping around her in the tightest hug she'd ever had. A sappy grin formed on her face as she returned the hug. Both were oblivious as Susan used her recovered wand to release the others while walking over to comfort Daphne, who was still shaking. She met Tracy at the taller blond, and the two girls eyed each other before they both nodded and embraced their mutual friend, who arms were wrapped tightly around her little sister. Both were weeping tears of relief.

Within the circle of their arms Harry took several deep breaths, drinking in the unique smells of Hermione. The scent of parchment and ink, along with a trace of cinnamon. The tension flowed out of him as she pressed her body to his, the two of them perfectly fitting together.

"Oy, What you doing with MY girl Harry?"

Ron's yell cut across the room, prompting heads to turn. Ron and Ginny were stood next to each other, looking at Harry. Ron was scowling, while Ginny was almost tearful.

"Harry..." she whimpered. "...Why aren't you holding me?"

Harry's face creased in confusion. "Hermione..." He began, while Hermione frowned. _'What does he mean "MY" girl?'_

In an instant Ginny's face transformed from one of hurt helplessness to a scowl. "That bloody bookworm? Why you wasting time with her?" Ginny missed the anger that flared up in Harry's eyes. "She's always around you, hovering. Bloody annoying it is! I've loved you since the day I heard of you, but with her in the way..."

Harry shook his head, his expression resigned. "You don't love me Ginny. You love 'The Boy Who Lived'. I'm not him."

Ginny frowned, the confusion clear on her face. "But... you're Harry Potter. Of course you are him!"

Hermione sighed. "It's no use Harry. She's been told ever since she was a baby your 'heroic' story. Mrs Weasley's used you as the perfect role model, making you Ginny's idol..."

Ginny turned nasty again. "Shut up you bitch! Harry's mine, MINE ALONE!" Harry looked at her in a slightly fearful way. "We've already got the wedding planned Harry. I'll in this beautiful purest white dress, and…"

She was cut off however when Harry gaped. "Wait, what? What wedding?"

Ginny looked confused. "Why, ours of course." Ron also wore a confused look, one even worse than his normal clueless expression.

Harry frowned. "Who said I'm marrying you, Ginny?" He asked. Hermione was glad her face was still pressed against Harry's chest, as she was unable to keep the grin off her face. _'Ha! Take that you little tramp!'_

"Why, everyone!" Ginny exploded, her ears turning red, a sure sign of the infamous 'Weasley Temper'. "We're perfect for each other Harry! We both love quidditch, we look good together… just like your mum and dad!"

Harry frowned in obvious confusion. "How does that make us perfect for each other?"

"Harry, everyone goes on about how you look like your father. And everyone also knows what your mother looked like. We're the same as them! Hence, perfect match!" Ginny clasped her hands together as she smiled dreamily.

Harry however looked almost sick. "So… you believe I should marry a woman who looks just like my own mum?"

Ginny waved her hand as if waving off a fly. "There's nothing wrong with that."

Harry closed his eyes, before he replied. "Ginny, I'm sorry. But I don't, nor ever will, see you _that _way." He looked at her steadily. "I don't even _know _you Ginny, not really. And I could never love someone who only see my bloody titles and fame… fame that I hate! I would give it all up to have my parents back. Everything.

"When or if I marry, I want it to be for love, to someone who'll care for _me_, not the money or the fame. Someone I can share my life with, and share hers. Someone who'll keep me grounded, keep me sane. Someone who doesn't care about what the outside world thinks of us, as long as she loves me for _who _I am, not what titles are forced on me."

The other girls all looked at him and Hermione with dreamy, yet knowing looks on their faces. They could all see who he was really talking about with that speech. The woman who matched his desires perfectly. She knew it too, and Hermione's grin just got wider as she snuggled into him even more. She pushed aside her concern regarding his implied question of 'if' he'll ever marry to one side for now. She knew Harry, and the way he'd said that suggested he doubted he'd live long enough to marry someone.

Ginny's face paled as she looked at his completely serious face. "No… no, it can't be!" She half shrieked before collapsing against Ron, wailing. Ron staggered and looked more afraid of his crying sister than his confusion.

"Oy, get off me! Crazy girl..." He began. Then he glared at the two of them, still wrapped in each others arms.

"Happy now you've broken my sister's heart Potter? Not only did you have to take what's mine, the only thing that is, you have to hurt Ginny…"

Hermione glared at Ron now, shutting him up. "I was never, ever, in any possible way 'yours' Ron! I don't know where this crazy desire to 'own' me came from Ron, but it ends now!"

Ron looked confused, worse than his normal look. "But… I mean… you know I fancy you!"

"Really?" Hermione's tone was full of disbelief. "Well you have a terrible way of showing it!"

"I gave you perfume…"

"Was that what it was?" She asked, affecting a surprised air. "I thought it was some kind of wizarding pepper-spray. I used it to get rid of Malfoy when we met on prefect patrols and he started getting obnoxious. It didn't last long." The other girls smirked and chuckled, even Tracy Davis. She still wasn't sure about the Gryff's, but she hated Draco and everything he stood for. The though of him gagging on cheap perfume was warming.

Ron now glared. "We flirted all the time…"

"Ron! That was NOT flirting. That was arguing! We wouldn't argue if you weren't such a prat!" Hermione snapped, her temper running out. "And if you think feeling me up uninvited was the thing to do, then you are very much mistaken!"

Harry had been intending to keep out of things, but Hermione's last statement snapped his attention. "What? Ron, did you…" He scowled.

Ron took an involuntary step backwards, terrified of the fire that had sparked in Harry's eyes. "She's been coming on to me for years, I just thought…"

"ME COMING ON TO YOU?" Hermione had escalated to full on screaming. She whirled out of Harry's arms to face Ron straight on, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed. She was so incensed that she had forgotten about the torn shirt and skirt. When Ron's eyes began to wander down her body her temper snapped, and her wand shot out.

Ron ended up crashing into the teachers desk, flipping backwards over it to land face first on the stone floor.

Harry, fearing what she might do next – not for Ron's sake, but for her own – wrapped his arms around her once more. "Easy Hermione, easy." He whispered into her ear. The feel of his breath caressing her ear soothed her.

"This may be a dumb question, but why were you two friends with this fool in the first place?" At her question Harry turned to look at Tracy with a confused look. After a several seconds, he shrugged, clearly stating that he didn't know himself anymore.

Sighing, Hermione eased out of his arms. "Come in, let's fix the door and go to McGonagall. She must be wondering where we are by now…"

The other girls nodded, before walking towards the doorway. They all paused by Draco however. He had been the ringleader, the most aggressive and foulest of the lot. Righteous anger boiled over, and they all took a few moments to added a few kicks to the battering Harry had already given him as red haze fell across their eyes. After that the girls calmed down and taking a moment to glare at Draco's limp form, moved to the doorway. Only a few shards of wood remained attached to the hinges.

Harry looked again at Draco, his feelings churning. On the one hand the beating they had given him was brutal and harsh, especially as he was unable to defend himself. It was behaviour that was morally repugnant to him, and he knew that Hermione would never normally act in such a way.

But on the other hand, it was Draco Malfoy, the lowest of the low. Bigoted, arrogant and a bully of the worst kind. And what he'd planned to do to them... it was unforgiveable. In Harry's mind, he deserved far, far worse. But he also knew with the corrupt, decedent Ministry they had right now, he'd be able to get off of all charges simply by tossing some gold around and naming his parentage. It sickened him to realise that Draco was more than likely not going to be punished for what he'd tried to do. Harry had no faith in the Headmaster any more.

Motion by the teachers desk caught his eye, and he moved over towards his former Best Mate. What Ron had said and done...

Ron groaned as he lay on the floor, blood dripping from his broken nose. He was sure that he had a couple of other injuries resulting from the back flip over the desk. Slowly he began to lever himself up... only to freeze when he met Harry's hard eyes, barely a foot from his own.

"Listen Ron. You've really messed things up now. This attitude of yours has to stop _now_. Hermione's a wonderful woman, but you and her are never going to work. You need to grow up over the summer. If you do that, maybe she'll forgive you. But if you carry on like you have been…" A pained look entered Harry's eyes, stopping Ron from saying anything. After a few seconds he breathed out. "Don't make me chose between you two Ron. I don't want to lose any one else." With that Harry stood up and walked over to where the girls were putting the final touches to the repaired door. Leaving Ron to consider his words, alone with the still sobbing Ginny and the unconscious Slytherins.

* * *

Now joined by Harry, Tracy and Astoria, the three moved back towards McGonagall's office. Reaching it, Hermione hesitated before knocking on the door.

"Enter." McGonagall called out at the knocking, halting her pacing. Miss Granger and the others were late, which was so unlike her…

"Miss Granger, at last. Where…" McGonagall trailed off however when she saw the state of the young witch in question. Her eyes darted between the torn skirt, ripped shirt and the beginnings of a nasty bruise on her cheek. "What happened?" She asked worriedly.

Harry answered for the girls as they slipped inside. "Malfoy." He spat.

McGonagall closed her eyes in pained resignation, before drawing her wand. "How bad?"

"Harry rescued us before things got too far," Hermione answered the question, a shiver running through her. Now, after the fact, she felt the fear and horror of the near rape. If Harry hadn't arrived at that point… Forcing that thought from her mind, Hermione quickly summarised what had happened, from Malfoy's ambush to Harry's arrival. She held nothing back, not even her own sudden bout of violence against Malfoy. Throughout McGonagall was feeling her fury rise. That little… there was not a term in English, Welsh, Scottish, Latin, Celtic or Greek suitable to describe such a person! She'd been informed by a furious Professor Sinstra about the last attack on Miss Greengrass… and the Headmasters response. Full of fury, she'd stormed into his office and tore him a new one. But, despite everything she said, the old fool had not changed his mind. In fact he'd barely paid her any attention, staring off into the middle distance with a frown. He just kept on saying that 'they must lead Draco back to the Light'. She knew he was all about second chances, but this time Draco had gone too far. But when she'd moved to contact Amelia he'd shot up and cut her off, _ordering_ her to drop the issue. Expelling those students now would just drive them further into the darkness, he claimed, making their return to the light even harder and more painful. Flabbergasted, McGonagall had stormed out, knowing it was either that or she would have starting hurling curses at him… which likely would have been the end of her career. And maybe her life, given how she was still recovering from that multiple stunner strike. Besides, it would have done no good anyway. No, best to withdraw for now, and try and use her position to help the students, even if he wouldn't. She felt ashamed that she hadn't noticed it before, but she was determined to put a stop to all this.

McGonagall sighed in relief when Hermione finished before she stepped over. Waving her wand, she started fixing the damage. After a quick once over the three girls, she nodded in satisfaction before gesturing towards the chairs set before her desk. Sitting down behind it, she looked up at the six teens before her, noting the stances and positions they had taken up. Harry stood next to Hermione, one hand clasped in his own. Susan was between her and Daphne, while young Astoria all but clung to her older sister. Tracy was stood beyond her housemates, almost leaning against the wall. Taking a deep breath, she began.

"After your… activities, the other night, I had a word with the other professors. Myself and Pomfrey agreed that there is the possibility of certain, consequences, to your actions." The girls flushed red, but kept quiet, while Harry paled. McGonagall smiled inwardly at their reactions. "You're words afterwards prompted us to arrange for a few changes in your living arrangements for the remaining two years. Although…" She trailed off, her eyes jumping from Astoria to Tracy and back.

"Firstly… Miss Bones, Miss Greengrass, we have decided that you both may transfer to Gryffindor house if you so wish." Daphne's expression brightened markedly at that, but then she glanced at her sister who was looking pale, but looked back before nodding. McGonagall decided to keep a close eye on the younger Greengrass, for her own sake. Susan was looking between the others, clearly thinking. After a moment she looked back at McGonagall before nodded, albeit a little reluctantly.

"I know you have friends in your original houses…" Tracy snorted, but McGonagall pressed on. "…but your potential new sleeping arrangements will not inhibit your chances to meet with them." At the confused and embarrassed looks on their faces, she explained.

"When you four return from the holidays, you will have a choice. You can either return to the regular dormitories along with your fellow year mates, or you'll have the option of using a set of married quarters that will be readied if needed." They all perked up. "I will explain more at the time. All I ask right now is that you consider it. An answer is not required until you arrive back, but sooner would be preferred." She smiled slightly before standing. "Now, I'll escort you back to Gryffindor Tower. Miss Davis, will you and Miss Astoria Greengrass be okay returning to your Common Room yourselves?"

Tracy appeared to think for a moment before nodding solemnly. She looked at Daphne, catching her friend's eye. Daphne relaxed when she nodded slightly: Daphne had taken Tracy under her wing when they had first been sorted into that snake pit, and later on her sister. Now that Daphne would not be around, Tracy would look out for Astoria herself.

"One thing professor." Harry spoke up. "What about Malfoy?"

McGonagall sighed, clearly in frustration, her emotions plain in her eyes. "I will most certainly report this to the Headmaster, but… he no longer listens to me." A dark look of sadness crossed her face. "He is convinced that expelling them will just make them worse. He also seems to think that Mister Malfoy can be redeemed." Her snort of disgust showed how she felt about that.

At Harry's scowl, she continued. "I agree with your sentiments Mister Potter, but expulsion, has always rested with the Headmaster. And as, in this case, it's just your word against his…"

"What about a pensieve memory?" Hermione asked. "And surely this should be brought to the attention of the DMLE! They're committing adult crimes, they should be tried as such! Surely the Ministry's not going to turn a blind eyes towards this sort of thing!" McGonagall looked at her in sympathy, sorrow in her eyes.

"I have tried that approach before, regarding Professor Snape's conduct. So far, I've been rebuff and ignored." She sighed again, slumping in her chair, the motion revealing her weariness and depression. "And as for the DMLE… the Headmaster has final say over everything that happens here regarding discipline and punishment. Only he can bring the Department in, and if he says they're not required, then they cannot enter."

Harry snorted. "Dumbles just wants to keep his pet Death Eater around. Never mind about the children."

All six witches nodded in sad agreement.

* * *

The four tired teens followed McGonagall to the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. They could have headed up by themselves, but McGonagall knew that she'd likely have to explain a few things to her House.

She was also worried about another attack by Draco and his ilk. Even if Harry had laid out all those involved, there were others in that group who could cause trouble.

Once they were inside the common Room, McGonagall stepped forwards, towards the centre of the chamber. There was a low hum of conversation, since the students had not yet noted her entrance. However, before she could start Ron yelled out.

"What the bloody hell is a _Slytherin_ doing in here?" Instantly all conversation ceased as the students whipped their heads around to stare at Daphne, their expressions ranging from confusion and shook through to suspicion and distrust. Daphne began to wilt under it, but Susan wrapped an arm around her, as did Hermione. Their actions did not go unnoticed.

"If I could have your attention, I will explain." McGonagall spoke firmly, her aura demanding respect and attention. Harry watched as Ron scowled, but listened.

"Both Miss Bones and Miss Greengrass have transferred into Gryffindor house, due to certain recent events and circumstances." Several of the students gasped in surprise. "Now, I know that tomorrow you will all return home to your families, but I would hope that you will take the time to make your two new housemates welcome." McGonagall's tone stated that it was more of an _order _than a _request_.

"Please, do not interrogate either of them; the reasons for their transfers are private, and should be respected as such." McGonagall sent a glare roaming around the house's biggest gossips, including Lavender and Parvarti. "That is all. The Headmaster will be making some announcements tomorrow at breakfast, so I expect that you will all attend before departing." As she turned back to face the three girls the chatter started up again as the house realised that she had done talking to her, though they spoke at a much reduced volume that before.

"Mister Potter, would you excuse us for a moment?" Harry nodded and stepped away, heading towards where Ron continued to glare at Daphne. "Ladies... be sure to replace your uniforms over the summer." All three nodded, understanding the Assistant Headmistresses hidden message: while their torn clothing had been repaired, they were not 'as good as new'. Torn clothes repaired with spells were always weaker along the original tear lines. Besides, Both Susan and Daphne would need new sets to fit in with their new House.

Meanwhile, Harry was facing Ron. "How's Ginny?" He asked quietly. He didn't want to appear eager to hear about her state, but at the same time she had been a friend of sorts, and she was his former best mates little sister.

"Huh?" Ron started, eyes not leaving Daphne. "Upstairs in her dorm, I think..." His eyes narrowed again. "Why the hell is a Slytherin in here?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Didn't you hear McGonagall just now? Didn't you even listen? She's a Gryffindor now."

Ron grunted. "That hat put her in Slytherin, so she belongs there!" His eyes widened before he glared at Harry accusingly. "And why are you sticking up for her?"

"She's Hermione's friend Ron. And she helped me out."

Ron looked disgusted. "Forming your own harem Harry? Hermione not enough, even after you stole her..."

"RON!" Hermione's voice cut across the low chatter, bringing silence to the common room once more. "That's enough! Don't you remember anything I said to you earlier?"

Ron backed up, a worried look on his face. "Er... not really..."

Hermione closed her eyes, and Harry got the strong impression that she was counting down from ten. "Go to bed Ron. I don't what to see hide nor hair of you for the rest of the evening."

"Now see here..." Ron started to snap back, but froze when he found her wand tip inches from his nose.

"Don't Ron. Don't… push… it."

Shaking slightly, Ron backed up before dashing up the stairs to the Boy's rooms. He recalled what had happened the last time she had pointed her wand at him. His ribs still ached from it.

Harry turned to face her. "Breath Hermione."

With a long shuddering breath Hermione relaxed and tucked her wand away before reaching out with one arm. Without a word Harry stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her own wrap round him. After a moment the two of them took the few steps needed to reach 'their' couch, and they sank into it with their arms still around each other.

On the far side of the Common Room Lavender and Parvati stood watching the two of them. "Well, how about that?" Parvati asked with a slight smirk.

"Okay, you were right." Lavender sulked, pouting. She'd been hoping to get Harry for herself... which girl didn't? Okay, he wasn't really her type, but with his fame and status – not to mention the money it was rumoured he'd inherit when we he came of age – what did that matter?

Never had she ever thought that her bookworm, bushy haired dorm mate would be the one to snag Harry, never in a million years! She had, it appeared, to have settled into a combination mother/big sister type role with Harry.

Clearly though, she had been wrong. The two of them were sat on the couch before the fire, holding each other in a way that showed an easy intimacy with each other, something that was lacking from a siblings type hug...

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt however as she saw Susan Bones sit down on the other side of Harry and hug them both. Harry was leaning back against the couch, with Hermione's head resting just below his collarbone as she sat across his lap. Susan proceeded to slip an arm around the back of Harry's neck while the other went to Hermione's shoulder. As the buxom redhead leaned into their combined embrace, Daphne sat down in the small space on their other side and leaned against them too, her body turned slightly towards them.

Lavender turned to look at Parvati, whose eyes were wide in shock. "What the heck?" She asked.

* * *

The four of them sat together for the next hour, quietly waiting for the others in the Common Room to head up. Some of the other Gryffindors wandered over to welcome and congratulate Susan and Daphne on their transfer. Some of the boy's cast envious looks at Harry for having the attention of all three witches, but the memory of how Hermione had threatened Ron held their tongues. Soon they were the only ones still there, the fire burning low.

Harry relaxed his hug on Hermione and looked down at her. "You okay now?" He asked gently.

Hermione sat a little as she replied. "I'm okay Harry. Thanks for that." A small smile flitted across her face before she looked at him with concern. "What about you? Are you okay?"

Harry sighed, knowing what she was really asking. "No... but I will be." A smile formed on her face as she heard him.

"I can't say I don't miss him, despite not knowing him even half as much as you did, and that I'm okay about what happened. But... I'll try and get through it now." He looked up briefly, as if afraid to meet her eyes. "I just... don't want this night to end."

Hermione's heart melted. "Oh Harry... it'll be okay." She leaned forwards and kissed him gently on the mouth. She was tempted to linger there, but she knew she needed to tell him. "Harry... I know what you mean. We all..." her hand gesture encompassed all four of them. "...Feel the need to be close to one another, at least for the next little while. So... I arranged for us all to stay at my house over the summer." A nervous tension filled Hermione's limbs as she waited for Harry's reaction. She knew Susan and Daphne would stay with her, but without Harry...

Harry smiled, stroking her cheek. "That's brilliant Hermione! But why so nervous? Why wouldn't I want to stay with you?"

Hermione flushed. "Well, you've stayed with the Weasleys in the past..."

Harry nodded slowly, guiltily. "I've been a terrible friend to you haven't I?" He asked quietly. He then frowned. "But Dumbledore's…"

"No Harry, you've just been in under terrible strain lately... And Professor McGonagall's going to handle _him_." Hermione reassured him. After a couple more minutes of hugging she drew back slightly, enough to look at the clock on the wall.

"Come on, we had all better get to bed. Big day tomorrow."

* * *

A/N: and there we go. The worst elements are behind us now (at least, until the end of the summer...) We're going to move into more tradtional 'Harry/Hermione alternate 6th Year' story elements, but I hope I've put new twists on the old plot points...


	9. Voyage to a Wider World

A/N: You know, I'm really, really surprised. Pleasently. Despite the not ideal title, and the events so far, this story is gaining Serious attention. over nine hundred Alerts, nearly seven hundred Favs, and the most hits of any of my stories. And We're not even reached chapter 10! Seriously, thank you ALL!

Now, from this point on we're going more light-hearted and fluffy, as Harry & Co adjust to their new found closeness. It's 'Healing Harry' time...

A Word regarding all your reviews and comments. I do take them on board, but due to the way I write it might not be apparent until a couple of chapters later. Just... bare with me. I have a plan, and a plot, and reasons for how things are...

* * *

The ride back to the station was a study in contrasts for their group. Around them the other students laughed and cheered, freed from school and exams. Many were ecstatic to be away from the deplorable Umbridge, heading home for the summer. The next year was the furthest thought from their minds, as they yelled and chatted, talking about what fun and games they'd get up to back home.

The contrast was their small group. Harry walked in the centre, Hermione at his side as ever. Susan flanked his other side, Daphne slightly behind the pair, her sister tucked in close, uncharacteristically quiet. Neville walked on Hermione's other side, while Susan's former housemate Hannah Abbot walked on Susan's right. Luna walked just behind them, her eyes as dreamy as ever but with a small smile on her face. A surprising addition was Tracy Davies, who'd stepped up to speak with Daphne. Ron sulked along at the back several long steps behind, excluded from the group but unable to mingle with the other students. Ginny, whose face still showed the signs of crying, was besides him.

They moved onto the train as one, almost silently passing the luggage between them. Reaching an empty compartment Harry sat down first by the outer wall, and Hermione sat not surprisingly besides him, snuggled against his side. Instinctively he wrapped an arm around her as both of hers wrapped around him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. Harry couldn't help but smile at her actions. In the past he'd shied away from physical contact with anyone: the Dursleys had only ever caused him pain. His first real hug had come from this remarkable young woman at the end of their first year at Hogwarts. Now though, the feeling of her arms around him made him feel at peace with himself for the first time.

Neville sat across from Harry, looking between him and Ginny as she walked past heading further down the train. Neville knew that there was still tension between Harry and the youngest Weasleys. He'd tried to be there for Ginny when her own brother had failed, but she'd rebuffed him, crying out for Harry. The crush he'd harboured for her died at that point when she'd uttered the dreaded 'Mud-Blood' word regarding Hermione. Neville deeply respected Hermione, and considered her to be the big sister that he needed. Hearing the girl he'd been harbouring a small crush for a bit over eighteen months insult her so destroyed any romantic feelings he might have had.

Luna sat down on the seat next to the door, on the same side as Neville. Although she faked a calm, relaxed attitude as she brought a copy of _The Quibbler_ out from her robes, inside she was nervously watching all her friends. She had picked up a lot more than any of them thought, and so knew that Harry and Hermione were tightly bound together now, even more so than they displayed. She also knew that they were also bound with Susan and Daphne, though those bonds were not quite as strong, yet. She also knew the source of the tension between the 'Golden Trio' was Ronald. Why, she hadn't quite figured out yet.

Sliding the last of their trunks into place, Susan and Daphne sat besides Hermione, just. The bench seats on the train were designed to seat three comfortably, or four if they didn't mind being a little cramped. The lack of personal space was the last thing on the two witches' minds however. Astoria stopped to speak softly with her older sister before moving on to another compartment.

Feeling eyes on him Harry looked up at the compartment entrance. Ron stood on one side, apprehension clear on his face, turning to anger whenever he looked towards Hermione. Traditionally Ron would take a seat with Harry and Hermione, but the events of the past week hung between them. Hermione had been compelled to reveal the rest of the way Ron had been treating her while Harry was hiding. Without his presence to act as a buffer between them, their relationship had deteriorated badly. Ron's unwanted advances had almost made her want to kill him several times while they had been patrolling the castle. Harry had had another word with Ron earlier that morning, though weather it would have a lasting affect was doubtful.

The other side had Hannah and Tracy, both of whom were looking between their former dorm-mates and Harry. It was clear that they would normally sit with them, but were unsure if they would be allowed to

Harry looked at the scene for a long moment then spoke softly. "Hannah, Da… Tracy, feel free to sit if you like." Both girls relaxed as they stepped in through the door way and took the remaining space between Neville and Luna. Hannah ended up alongside Neville, who blushed as the pretty, strawberry blond girl sat down next to him with barely any room between them.

Back in the corridor, Ron scowled. "So that's how it's going to be Harry?"

A flash of guilt swept across Harry's face, a glimpse of his inner turmoil. Hermione frowned as she distinctly felt a wave of guilt hit her, but from _outside_, not from herself.

"It's okay." Luna spoke quietly as she closed her _Quibbler. _"I'll..."

Ron cut her off however. "Don't bother. I'll find somewhere else!" He turned and yanked on his trunk, but before the door slid shut they could all hear his muttered words as he started walking. "At least I won't have to watch him fawn over my girl..."

Harry had to restrain Hermione from jumping up and going after Ron. "Oh, that... creep!" Hermione almost snarled, her eyes narrowed to thin slits. "'MY girl'? What is that prat thinking...?"

"Nothing but himself. How is that new?"

Susan's comment took the wind out of Hermione's sails, and she slowly settled back into Harry's embrace.

The rest of the trip to Kings Cross was quiet for the group. Hermione had been excused from patrolling the train by McGonagall, so she remained in Harry's arms. Something she was immensely grateful for.

During the ride, the gathered group talked about inconsequential things - none wishing to bring up the topics that were foremost in their minds - drawing the normally reserved Tracy and shy Hannah out of their shells. Tracy dropped the sinister, dark gothic persona she normally wore, her defence mechanism against the depravations of the Junior Death Eaters in her house. The others were surprised at the saucy, cutting wit that was revealed, expect for Daphne, who'd already known about this other side to her. She also revealed that Malfoy had spent the night in the Hospital Wing, apparently having to chug down a mug of Skele-grow every two hours. Hannah was slower to emerge, but slowly began to be more vocal. Harry noted with a soft smile that Neville was paying particular attention to her when she did say something. Even when she was quiet, he appeared interested in her.

As they stepped off the train Hermione couldn't help but snort again at the insanity of the situation. She figured the wizards must have pulled the choice of platform number out of a hat or something, since Platform 'Nine and Three-quarters' did NOT match up with the real platforms nine and ten. Instead, the barrier to reach the wizards platform was located between platforms Four and Five, where the roof arched down again into a series of brick arches that marched down the middle of the main station structure. The only thing between the real Nine and Ten was a few feet of air, which a pair of trains almost filled. Plus getting at those two was almost impossible if you didn't have a valid ticket.

Hermione had wondered if even the choice of Kings Cross, while a nod towards the Muggles achievements, was not also a way to discourage muggle-borns from attending. Being in the centre of London meant it was awkward to get to by car; the station did not have its own car park. And even when you'd worked your way through Central London traffic – a scary prospect even for keen drivers - there were few places to park anywhere near the station. You just had to hope that a space in the nearby streets was free. And what had they done before the station was opened in 1892?

Suddenly she realised that she and Harry were alone. Stopping she turned to look over her shoulder. Ron and Ginny had already left, collected by Mrs Weasley on the magical platform, while Neville was stood with his grandmother, complete in her fox stole and vulture hat. Susan and Daphne had paused in following them, eyes on the brick wall where the barrier to the muggle side was located. Apprehension rolled off them, though Hermione was not sure how she knew this. Of Tracy and Hannah there was no sign: they must have left while Hermione's mind had wandered.

A flash of insight ran through her: this would be the first time that either girl had actually stepped through onto the muggle side. "It's okay." She called to them both. "Just stay close to me and Harry." Returning her attention forwards, she took a deep breath before pushing her trolley forwards.

Emerging on the other side, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that both platforms Four and Five lacked trains, thus the platforms themselves were relatively clear of other rail users. When she'd checked that they were all together she led the way to the main concourse.

Susan and Daphne tried hard not to stare around at the sights as they follow their friend. A National Express intercity train was boarding at platform Six to their right, and both girls were amazed at the length of the train. The rumbling of the great diesel motors in the end engine unnerved them, but then they saw the chaos of the concourse.

Harry gulped as he watched the crowd. This was the bit he always hated, apart from meeting Vernon. While it was still a Sunday and thus the office workers were not travelling, there were still dozens of people moving about, many dragging their luggage behind them on their castors. Kings Cross was the terminus for trains that ran up the very spine of the country, reaching out to places like Hull, Cambridge, Peterborough, York and Edinburgh, plus dozens of more local stations along those lines. It was no wonder they had had to build an extra three platforms off to one side to handle the extra trains.

With a word to keep close, Hermione eased into the mass, watching out for rushing fools but allowing her trolley to act as a chisel, forging a path through the crowds. Several did pause or step aside slightly to allow her and the others through, though some were so concerned with their own business they didn't even notice.

Hermione snorted as one businessman rushed across in front of her, talking a mile a minute on the mobile phone clapped to his ear, his elbow being used to force others to move while his other hand was behind him. Held in that hand was a handle that led down to a slightly larger than normal briefcase, that was resting on its castors. Honestly, those things were a menace to other people! The lazy bugger couldn't even be bothered to carry his briefcase in his hand!

Susan glanced about nervously as she followed Harry, who was tucked in behind Hermione. The bustle was not quite like anything she'd seen before, though Hogwarts could come close. A voice blazed out from somewhere above, announcing that train to somewhere – she missed the destination – was boarding at platform Three. In response what seemed like half the crowds just standing around gazing up at large blocks started walking in one great mess, some almost running. Susan nervously jumped when they had to thread they way through a part of that mass.

At the back of their own little train Daphne shivered slightly as they moved through the crowds. A few of them levelled sharp looks at her or the others, she guessed because they were using the trolleys. No one else appeared to be using them, as far as she could see. It might also have had something to do with the two owl cages perched on top of Harry's and Susan's trunks.

Hermione smiled when she caught sight of her mother sat in one of the benches by the Underground entrance in the centre of the main concourse, though the lack of her dad was a bit of a surprise. Normally both her parents would be here to welcome her home. They must have decided to have one stay behind to free up space in the car.

Emma Granger stood up as soon as she saw the trolley being pushed towards her by her daughter. As she did so she looked carefully at her precious child. Hermione looked thrilled, with an inner glow that was hard not to notice. As a medical professional she noted that Hermione was walking a little awkwardly as she stepped around the trolley, but she pushed concerns regarding the possible source of such discomfort out of her mind as she opened her arms.

"Hi mom!" Hermione grinned as they shared a tight hug, though a tiny wince escaped her as they did. After a minute they parted and she pivoted to gesture towards the three other teens who had moved up. "Mom, this is Susan and Daphne... and this is Harry."

Emma took a close look at Harry, the boy who had figured so prominently in nearly every letter Hermione had sent from Hogwarts. Hermione's descriptions were spot on, from the messy but attractive black hair to the penetrating green eyes. His body was hidden under clothing that was far too big for his frame, but what could be seen was a wiry, tough looking one. But his face... there was an openness, an honesty, an innocence there that melted her heart.

His eyes however were not those of a child. Instead the firm gaze of an adult looked back, haunted and hurt. From everything that Hermione had told them, which Emma knew was not everything at all, Harry had been forced to grow up fast, far faster than he should have.

"Hello there. It's nice to finally meet those which Hermione talks so much about." She looked at the other two girls now, and was surprised to see that they too had a glow to them, though not quite as bright as Hermione's. The blonde, Daphne, also had a haunted look in her eyes, as if something terrible had happened recently. "Now, let's get out of this station while it's still quiet."

Daphne and Susan shared a surprised look. This was a _quiet_ period?

Instead of towards the main entrance, Mrs Granger led them across the station, moving parallel to the concourse. Harry was relieved at her actions: Uncle Vernon always waited near the main entrance. He glanced across, and through the crowd saw a gathering of people he knew. Their backs were to him, but he could recognise Mad-Eye anywhere. The others appeared to be Remus, Tonks and Mr Weasley.

Then through a gap he saw who they were facing. Vernon. And from the look on his face, they were having words with him.

Harry snorted. _'Thanks guys! Really great idea!'_ Harry knew his uncle: threats from the Order would only work for a short while, maybe until the next day, but then he'd get angry and take it out on him. He might even get the belt out again, which he'd put away just after Hagrid had collected him from that shack by the sea. He shivered slightly at the memory of that belt: he still bore scars on his back from it.

Exiting the station via a side entrance, they emerged onto York Street, which ran parallel to the platforms. Looking to her right, Emma waited for a gap in the traffic before leading the four teenagers across the road, fortunately a one-way street. Clustering around the rear of their Discovery, they loaded the trucks into the boot before they returned the trolleys to the station. Once they returned, Emma looked over the four of them.

"Okay, now who's going to sit up front?"

The four of them looked at each other, confused for a moment. Daphne had never ridden in a car before, while Susan had been in the rear with her Aunt the few times they'd used a Ministry car to get here. Harry had also always been in the back... because Vernon and Petunia forbade him even being anywhere near the wheel. Plus he was less visible in the back. He figured they would have thrown him in the boot if they thought they could have gotten away with it.

A second later Hermione spoke up. "As it's her first time in a car, why not have Daphne in front, so she can see better?" Her arm curled round Harry's, an action that did not go unnoticed by her mother, but one she didn't comment on.

Climbing into the iconic 4x4, Harry found himself being pushing to the middle of the rear seat, with Hermione behind him and Susan climbing in from the other. Once the doors were closed quite a lot of the noise outside was cut off, leaving a mute rumble. Harry was already fumbling with the lap belt, and Hermione was just closing the seat belt, when Mrs Granger spoke up. "Don't forget your seat belts you two."

From where she sat in the forward passenger seat Daphne turned her attention away from the dials that were behind the wheel in front of Mrs Granger to look at her. "Huh?" She asked in confusion.

Emma smiled lightly, remember her daughter's words. "Over your left shoulder, on the support pillar, grab the bare metal thing on the strap." Daphne and Susan both twisted to look over their shoulders to see the belts. As they reached for it, Emma continued to speak. "Pull it out across your body, down to your right hip. There's a dark grey block with a red button on the end with a slot next to it. Insert the metal tab into that slot until it clicks." She felt like a fool having to explain how a seat belt works to fifteen year olds, but she understood the reasons why. Susan quickly caught on, having seen something similar in the Ministry cars. Daphne struggled, so Emma leaned across and helped her lock the belt. Once all four of them were belted in, she turned the keys and started the engine. Daphne jumped when the sudden rumble kicked in, but after a moment she settled down as she realised what it was. Stifling a chuckle, Emma eased the Discovery away from the curb.

* * *

It took nearly an hour for them to reach the Grangers home. Once they got off the main roads however the traffic eased and soon Emma turned the Discovery onto their driveway. Once he'd stepped out, Harry could see that Hermione's home was easily twice as large as the Dursleys, with much larger grounds. It stood apart from the house next door, separated by the garage's.

The differences were even more acute once they were in the front door. The Dursleys home was cold, indifferent, almost antiseptic. The Grangers home was warm, comforting... inviting.

Between the five of them the four trunks and three animals were carried into the house and up the stairs to the upper floor. Once there, Hermione led Susan and Daphne towards the second bedroom, while Mrs Granger directed Harry to the spare room turned study den.

"Give me a hand with this, will you Harry?" She asked. Harry frowned, unsure what she meant, until her hands slipped under the cushion on the futon that resided in the centre of the room. Stepping to the other end of the sofa, he copied her actions and very quickly they had folded out the pine sofa into a low bed. The thick cushion unfolded to form the mattress. A couple of sheets and a blanket rested to one side, and with Harry's help Mrs Granger quickly had the new bed made.

"I'll get a couple of pillows from the airing cupboard." She smiled at him. "Just be aware that for the last couple of years this was Hermione's study den, so she might want to continue to use it as such." Harry flushed at the thought, his eyes on the towering stacks of books by the one wall.

In the next room Hermione sighed with relief as she sank down onto her old bed. It was always good to return home. A pang of guilt ran through her at the thought; she'd been ignoring her parents a lot during the last year. The focus of her concern had been Harry and how life in general appeared to hate him at times.

Her mind turned over the events of the last week, and how she had felt. The pain of seeing Harry so despondent, the horror of learning of the curse on him, the desperation of her search for a cure... Her cheeks flushed red as her mind visited That Night. The throbbing ache between her legs was almost crippling, but Hermione would not have changed anything. Despite the risks, she had opened her heart to Harry... and he had responded in kind. There was a connection between them now that no-one, not even Ron and his jealously, could break.

A pair of shoe clad feet stepped into her line of sight, prompting her to look up into the eyes of her mother. There was an arc to her eyebrow that told Hermione that her mother wanted answers, though it was softened by her smile.

"Penny for them?" She asked softly.

Hermione sighed. "Just thinking about this last year."

Emma Granger closed the door softly before stepping over to sit besides her daughter. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and Hermione leaned into the embrace. "It's been a bad one, hasn't it?" She asked softly.

Hermione nodded. "More than you know." She answered quietly. "And Harry's had it the worst of all."

Emma raised an eyebrow at the fond tone as her daughter spoke her friends name. She had already picked up from her letters that Hermione was extremely fond of the raven haired young man, maybe even had a crush, but the depth of her tone...

She gently kissed the top of her head. "Just how far gone are you?"

Hermione sighed again. Maybe it was better to get this out now. "Mum, I... I'm in love with him." She turned her head to look at her. "I know that's a bold thing to say at my age, but... how I feel about him..."

Emma nodded slowly, her suspicions confirmed. "How badly?"

"I'd do anything for him." Hermione answered promptly and with certainty. "I can't imagine my life without him in it anymore. Anything I have, I'd give it up to save him."

Emma's eyes narrowed slightly. "Including your virginity?" She asked quietly.

Hermione's eyes flew open. "How did..." She trailed off at the look in her mothers eyes. "You... I mean..."

Emma sighed. "I saw how you were walking. I remember doing something similar during our honeymoon." She looked into her daughters eyes. "Why? I clearly remember you stating empathically that you would wait for your own wedding night." There was a slightly accusing tone in her voice.

Hermione fought back the tears that were suddenly threatening to fall. "It was the only way to save him."

"Harry?"

Hermione nodded, those tears beginning to escape.

Emma hugged her tightly. Her own eyes were starting to water. "Does he understand?"

"Yes." Hermione's answer was almost a whisper.

They sat like that for a few moments. Then Emma caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head slightly, she watched as the redhead – Susan, she remembered – step into the bedroom and sit down behind Hermione. Her own eyes were damp as she wrapped Hermione into a hug from behind. The blond sat just beyond her, part of the group but not as intimate as the other two.

Emma looked closely at Susan actions. There was an easy intimacy between her and Hermione that had her wondering. She'd noted how both the other girls had walked awkwardly, though not quite to the same degree as Hermione. Emma chuckled as her thoughts wandered to the most likely reason for both facts.

"I guess you all gave Harry nearly every teenaged boy's greatest fantasy."

Both Hermione and Susan laughed with her, and the blond smiled. All three girls also blushed, confirming the unasked question. With a large amount of embarrassment, Hermione explained how they had broken the curse on Harry. Emma listened attentively, before grinning devilishly.

"You'd best not let the tale of this spread, or you'll have every boy there claiming they've been cursed like Harry, looking for an orgy."

"MUM!" Hermione spluttered even as Susan laughed and blushed almost as red as her hair at the same time.

After a minute or two of chuckles Emma sobered. "Dear... what were your intentions in having Harry stay here with us over the summer?" She asked seriously.

"Mum... I understand why you ask..." Hermione began, her face returning to her normal tone. "... but my only thought was to help Harry recover and grieve. He lost his Godfather just over a week ago, and even before this latest... problem, I was thinking about how to get him away from his aunt and uncle. They would never help him. I only know a few fragments of what he has gone through while there, but what I do know..." She trailed off, her eyes hard and mouth pressed into a thin line. Emma recognised the look of anger: she wore it herself.

"All I wanted to do is help him recover." Hermione hesitated, and then blushed. "That and try to suggest that I can be more than 'just a friend'."

Emma smiled. "Well... I think you've dealt with that last part already." She chuckled at the blush that spread across her daughters face, before her smile dropped a little. "Just... don't to be too eager to return to that level dear. Sex is great with a good lover..." a faint blush touched her own cheeks. "... but without an emotional attachment, it's meaningless."

All three young women nodded in understanding.

* * *

Diner that night was a simply chicken roast. The dining table was full for the first time since Christmas of their third year at Hogwarts... the last time Hermione had returned home for the festive season.

Despite the look that she got from her father, Hermione made sure that Harry was sat next to her. Susan sat beyond him on the end facing her father, while Daphne sat across from Harry, next to her mother. For the first few minutes the only sounds were the clinks of cutlery as they all focused on eating.

After a bit Emma looked up from her plate at her daughter, a look of apprehension on her face. "So... how long are you staying here this year?"

Harry winced at her tone: he knew that his troubles had kept Hermione away from her family year after year. Hermione sent him a sharp look, knowing what he was thinking, before facing her mother again.

"I planned of us being here the whole summer. We all need time to recover." Harry knew that she really meant him, but he kept quiet.

Emma glanced at the silent young man, guessing what her daughter really meant. A smile formed on her face however as she put that thought aside, instead focusing on her first response. "That's good dear. We hardly ever see you any more." She spoke softly in a wistful tone.

At the head of the table Nathan Granger allowed a tiny smile to creep onto his face. Despite knowing what had happened between these four young adults, he was pleased to know his darling daughter would be here too. With Harry. The thought threatened to ruin his good mood, but he suppressed it, recalling that it had been _Hermione _who had started... things. It still made him very uncomfortable, thinking about his daughter doing... _that_, but he was determined to not be like his own father. He'd almost disowned Nathan's sister when he learned that she'd started sleeping with her fiancée, and even now the two weren't talking nearly twenty years later.

Instead he turned his attention towards the two new young women. While he knew a little about them from Hermione's letters, it was nowhere near as much as he knew about Harry.

He looked over them both carefully as they finished their meal. Both were very attractive, each in their own way. The red-head was full figured with a significant bust line, surmounted by a gentle oval face with rich dark red hair that trailed down to just past her shoulder blades. The blonde, by contrast, had an elegant beauty about her. While there was nothing he put his finger on, she had an air of aristocracy about her.

Of course, in his eyes Hermione was just as pretty as either of them. She _was_ his daughter, after all.

"Anything on tonight?" He asked Emma.

"Haven't really looked." She replied. "But I doubt there'll be anything decent till eight or so. Sunday Night TV."

Nathan grunted, expressing the normal opinion of Sunday TV. Inwardly however he was pleased, as it make a perfect opportunity to learn some more about their three new lodgers.

When they had all finished Harry acted on automatic and began gathering the plates. He'd already gotten Susan's and Hermione's when he realised that Emma had the other three. She smiled kindly at him. "While it's nice that you're helping out Harry, you don't have to. You're on holiday, remember?"

Harry froze, and Hermione laid a hand on his arm in reassurance. So did Susan, sensing that Harry needed it. A series of emotions flickered across his face before he settled down. Emma's smile faded a little, but she decided to let go her concern, for now.

Harry moved to place the plates in the sink, but paused when Emma dumped her stack on the side and turned to him. Motionless, he watched as she took the plates from his grasp, leaving him holding air. Gathering the knives and forks together, she combined the stacks on the side.

Behind her Hermione saw how Harry was stood, and sighed deeply. Just what had the Dursley's done to him each summer? Setting the mint sauce down, she took hold of his hand and gently tugged, dragging him out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Nathan, already sat in 'his' spot on the two-seater sofa, watched in mild concern as Hermione all but dragged Harry in and sat him down in the centre of the three-seater before sitting besides him, her hand never leaving his. Daphne had already sat in the armchair in the suite, while Susan sat down on Harry's over side, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Harry visibly relaxed as Emma stepped through.

Harry took a few deep breaths as he tried to relax. For a moment he thought Mrs Granger was going to tell him to do the dishes: Aunt Petunia would have already screeched at him by now. _'I'm not at the Dursley's.' _He told himself once more. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see the concerned faced of Hermione's parents sat on the two-seater watching him, while just to his left He could feel Hermione, while Susan's presence was clear just to his right. "Sorry. Flashback to Privet Drive."

Hermione squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. He sent her a small smile in reply.

"Was it bad?" Susan asked in a small voice.

"My own mini Azkaban." Harry answered in a deadpan voice.

Seeing the way that Harry reacted, Nathan turned to Susan, asking her about her own family, how she had grown up in the Wizarding World, her relatives. Seeing what he was doing, Susan began to talk. As she talked, Harry was able to draw himself out of his past and focus on her.

Susan explained that while she was considered a Pure-Blood, she was actually more of a Three-Quarter-Blood; her mother had been Half-Blood, like Harry was. She mentioned that her parents were killed in a bad fire while she'd been five, so she'd been living with her Aunt Amelia, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement. Susan told how despite her limited spare time, Amelia had tried to help her understand the Muggle world better, since so much of the world was Muggle, while at the same time looking after her as best she could.

Daphne didn't talk as much when she was asked. Her relationship with her father was strained, at best, since his work consumed so much of his time. Her father was a Pure-Blood just like his stern father, though they weren't supremacists. Her mother was like Susan, technically a Pure-Blood. Most of the time she was with her three younger sisters. From some of her answers, it was clear there were areas that she didn't wish to go into. Sensing this, the elder Grangers halted the discussion to switch the TV onto a movie that was just starting.

As they watch Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock try to deal with a booby trapped bus without stopping, Hermione allowed her thoughts to wander to the young man sat besides her. So far it had only been two days since Their Night, barely a week since That Night, and they had been home less than a day. Still, she hoped that with the support of herself, her parents, Susan and Daphne that Harry would recover. She rubbed her thumb against his hand out of reflex.

They all enjoyed the movie, but by the end they were all feeling the effects of a long day. When they reached the upstairs hall Hermione paused and turned to face Harry, a worried expression on her face. The two of them looked at each other, a whole conversation held silently between their eyes.

_Will you be okay?_

Harry shrugged fractionally. _I think so._

_Well, I'll be here if you need me._

A tiny smile. _Thanks._

She smiled too, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

* * *

The stillness of the house at night was shattered by a cry of pain, fear and loss. It tore through the mind of Mrs Granger, snapping her awake and making her bolt upright in bed. For a few seconds she couldn't understand where that cry had come from.

Then she heard the hurried footsteps in the hall, and she remembered the other teens that were staying with them. Slipping out of bed she snatched up her dressing gown, throwing it on as she moved to check on Harry.

She emerged into the hall just in time to see one of the girls enter the study. The pale shape at the top of the figure identified her as Daphne.

Stepping through the door, Emma paused at the sight. Harry had clearly bolted upright on the futon, eyes wide in shock and pain. Hermione and Susan were in the final steps of reaching for him, wrapping their arms around the clearly distraught youth and drawing him into their combined embrace. Even as she watched Daphne climbed onto the futon behind him and hugged him tightly from behind.

A quick couple of steps brought Emma over to sit just behind her daughter, who she could hear was whispering to Harry. "It's all right Harry, it's all right… You're safe now… we're safe…" Emma noticed in passing that Hermione had one hand running through his raven locks. Looking into his face, Emma gasped slightly at the look of pain, loss and fear contained in those emerald depths. His lower lip was quivering, and there was sheen to his eyes that she understood at once. Yet Harry refused to cry. Reflected in those eyes she could see past pain and terrors that haunted him even now. Her heart went out to him, and even if he hadn't won her daughters heart, Emma would have enfolded the clearly troubled and wounded young man into her arms and driven away the darkness in him.

Susan spoke now, softly and gently. "Let it out Harry, let it out…" She too had clearly seen what Emma had seen.

It started with a single tear, running down from the corner of his eye. Then, after a long moment, his eyes slowly closed and a sob escaped his lips. As his body began to shake with them he allowed the two young women to guide his head down to rest between their chests. Behind him Daphne moulded herself to his back, her cheek resting on the nape of his neck.

Emma, now with tears of her own in her eyes, leaned forwards a bit and wrapped her arms around Hermione's and Susan's shoulders. Both young women turned their heads to look at her, but did nothing to remove Harry's face from their cleavages. His sobs and cries were muffled by their bodies, and she could feel his arms slide round each girls' waist, pulling them closer to him.

Emma said nothing, just nodded and smiled slightly. Hermione nodded in reply, then both turned back, their faces almost touching as they did. Together they tipped their heads forwards, resting their chins on Harry's head, foreheads almost touching. Susan began to hum a soft lullaby, while Hermione began whispering words of comfort and reassurance. Harry just clung onto them tighter, clearly drawing comfort from the three young women that now surrounded him as he shook and sobbed between them.

Despite the almost violent shaking he was going through, Hermione, Susan and Daphne remained still, offering themselves as steady rocks for Harry to cling on to. And with the same desperateness as a drowning man clings onto a piece of driftwood Harry clung to them, losing himself in the circle of love and support the three of them had formed for him. Warmth seemed to pass through them all, gently soothing Harry's worn and frayed nerves, easing his tired and frightened mind and calming his soul.

Neither Hermione nor Susan cared about how Harry's tears had soaked through their sleepwear to the soft curves underneath. All they cared about was Harry, as he cried out what appeared to be fifteen years worth of grief and suffering. Hermione knew, better than most, the hardships and loses Harry had gone through, and both Susan and Daphne were aware that Harry's lot in life so far had been horrible. Yet all three knew that they had only scratched the surface of the horrors that the young man in their arms, the young man who had captured their hearts, had suffered. Not even Hermione knew the full extent of how he had suffered in the ten years before Hogwarts.

Tears of her own were blurring Emma's vision now, her mind racing in concern. What could have happened to this fine young man that would make him break down like this? How much pain and suffering had he taken, silently and stoically, all these years? When they had first met, briefly, at that wizards bookstore three years ago, Emma had been struck at how… undersized… he'd been for his age. It was clear that he'd had a growth spurt since then, but there was still a disconcerting sense of malnutrition about him, even after ten months of school food.

Slowly the sobs died away, and Hermione gently lifted his head from her breast. Harry's eyes were closed, his breathing slow and deep. Tear tracks still marred his cheeks, but the crease in his forehead was gone.

Emma smiled lightly. "Good work dears." She whispered.

Hermione smiled and Susan blushed, but as Daphne eased out from behind Harry the others frowned before glancing down. Harry's arms were encircling them both, with no signs of letting go anytime soon. Hermione sighed in mild exasperation and began to peel his arm away from her. She stilled though when Harry moaned and a frown creased his forehead. When she let go of his arm it moved back to where it had been, and Harry relaxed once more.

"Er…?" The confused tone in her voice was one that Emma had rarely heard. A small chuckle escaped her lips.

"Looks like Harry wants to keep cuddling." She smiled at the blush that filled Hermione's cheeks, pushing down her own unease about the implications of this development. They already _had _gone 'all the way', after all.

"Sleep tight you three." She said as she stood up. Dropping a loving kiss on her daughters head, Emma watched as Hermione and Susan eased Harry back down, lying down with him in the process. From the doorway she watched as they took a few moments to get comfortable before stilling, their heads pillowed on Harry's shoulders.

Turning to leave, Emma paused when she saw how Daphne seemed torn, unsure as to what to do. After a moment the blond shrugged her nearly bare shoulders, and laid down across the foot of the futon. Emma snagged a spare pillow from the pile by the door and passed it to her, prompting a smile of gratitude from the young witch.

Easing the door closed, Emma returned to her bedroom, to see her husband sat up in the bed, the lamp on his side on. "Harry?" He asked softly.

Emma nodded as she slipped the robe off. "That poor young man's hurting bad Nath'." She said as she slid in besides him in the bed. With a small 'click' the light went out and a few seconds later she felt the familiar feel of her husbands arms wrapping around her bare body. "I could see it in his eyes. He's been bottling up his pain and loss for years. Maybe ever since… that night."

Nathan Granger was not a stupid man. He knew which night his brilliant wife was referring too; When Hermione's letters had started mentioning a 'Harry Potter' in them, someone who was a kind of celebrity in that world, they'd looked him up in some of the books Hermione had left at home. It still turned his stomach at how the books had all but glossed over the loss of Harry's parents, instead going on and on about the 'Defeat' of 'You-Know-Who'.

"I think… just now, was the first time he's ever let his grief and pain surface." Emma continued, her voice haunted. It would be a very long time before she could think about what had happened without her seeing once more Harry's eyes filled to overflowing with grief, pain and fear.

Nathan sighed and hugged her closer to him. "We can only be there for him if he lets us dear." He whispered. "He's already let Hermione in, right?" At her nod, he continued. "We'll just take one day at a time, let him know we will be there if he wants to talk, but not smother him."

Emma lifted her head a little to look him in the eye, a dark look in hers. "So you think he's been… too?" She didn't want to say the word aloud.

Nathan nodded slowly. "He's got all the classic signs. How no-one noticed before now…" A scowl briefly crossed his face.

"Maybe, in time, he'll tell us everything…" Emma said quietly, unsurely.

"We can only hope…" Nathan replied, unsure if he really wanted to know the truth in this case…

* * *

A/N: A word regarding Kings Cross: I recently was travelling throught that station twice a day for over a year. I can assure everyone that it has no car park, and the level of crowding is correct. And as for getting at platforms 9 & 10... ticket barriers block both entrances, and I don't think a magical ticket would agree with those automated machines...


	10. A New Day

**DR:** And here's the next chapter that you've all been waiting for. Fair warning: we do stray back into the NC-17 region in the first bit of this chapter, though I've tried to focus on what Daphne's _Thinking _and _Feeling _than what she's _Doing_. And I'm very pleased that so many of you commented that she seemed an outsider. That was not my intention, but I'm pleased to see you all care so much. Yes, she'll be that little more reserved than the other two, but in no way is she excluded.

Oh, and I tried to break the scenes up differently, but nothing works. So I'll have to continue to use the lines... (*sigh*) If anyone knows how to get that 'Shift+Enter for Single-Line-Break' thing to work right please drop me a line...

* * *

The next morning Emma Granger poked her head into the study to see the four teens still in bed, the four of them still where she had left them. She sighed as she studied Harry, Hermione and Susan; all three of them were clearly still deeply asleep. At the sound Daphne slowly raised her head from the spare pillow she had been resting on, her eyes still a little bleary.

"Ah good, you're awake." Emma spoke quietly. "Hermione's normally awake by now. When she or the others do, tell them that Nathan and I are at work?" Daphne nodded sleepily, prompting a smile from Emma as she headed down the stairs to join her husband in the car.

Back upstairs in the study Daphne yawned loudly before glancing at the others. She relaxed when she noted that all three were still asleep. Standing up, she was about to head back to the spare bedroom where her stuff was when her eyes noted a tell-tale 'bump' in the sheet that covered the three of them. For several long seconds she stared at it, comparisons with tent poles running through her mind. Daphne had never been enamoured with male body parts; her existence in the Slytherin dorm had mainly been about avoiding close encounters with such items. But now with Harry… she was drawn.

Slowly she lifted the sheet away before sitting back down in the space behind Hermione's knees. A laugh threatened to escape her lips when she saw the wardrobe malfunction that Hermione had suffered during the night. The muggle-born witch was only wearing an overlarge T-shirt, and when Harry had laid back down after their group hug the previous night after his nightmare, she'd slid down his body to nestle against him. However, the hem of her shirt had not moved with her, and was now hiked up around her waist. What made it even more amusing was that Harry's hand was gently cupping her barely clad rear.

The smile vanished into an open-mouthed look of shock when she drew the sheet away completely. The fact that Harry's other hand was on Susan was completely missed by the awed witch as she stared at Harry's crotch. Sometime in the night his member had slipped though the slot in his shabby, overlarge boxers, and now stood proudly before her. _'That was inside me?'_ was the only thought that was running through her head as Daphne drank in the sight.

Daphne continued to stare down at Harry's bits held in her grasp, indecision raging in her mind. On the one hand, she recalled the times in the Slytherin common room when she'd been forced to please others in her House with her mouth. It had been degrading and horrible. The smell alone with some of them had been enough to make her stomach rebel. It had been clear that for many of those 'superior' Purebloods hygiene was not a priority. And equally as clear had been the total disregard those boys had for her: their sole concern had been their own pleasure.

But... she wanted to give pleasure to Harry, anyway she could. Daphne was a little stunned at the change in her outlook. Before she had focused on looking out for herself and her sister, avoiding close contact with the others and not risking her neck for anything or anyone... an attitude that Slytherin House encouraged and promoted.

Now though... there was Harry. And Hermione and Susan, she amended herself as she looked between their sleeping faces. Harry was a one of a kind. By upbringing he should be a hate filled, repressed, broken thing, lashing out at anything he could in order to feel better about his own situation. But somehow he'd come through it all without one jot of cruelty anywhere in his body. He would give and give for eternity, never once taking by force, and receiving reluctantly.

'_Well...'_ she thought as she leaned forwards, her eyes jumping back to the part of him she still held in her hand _'...from now on, he's going to be given lots of things..."_

It was a new experience for her, being in control. This time she wasn't being forced to do as the boy wanted, with his hands holding her head so that she had no choice. This time she could move and act as _she _chose, take her time and learn what he enjoyed. Another thing that was much improved was the smell. Unlike the Slytherin boys, Harry did not stink of weeks of dirt and grim. There was only the smell that she was starting to associate with him. Daphne was sure she would never really be able to put it into words, but it was enough to know it was 'Harry Potter'.

As she continued to work her lips over him, slowly taking more and more, Daphne was surprised to realise that she was actually starting to enjoy this act, which until now had been disgusting and horrid. She slowed down a little as she tried to understand this. Was it simply that this time it was her choice, not forced on her? Was it Harry? She lifted her eyes to look up at his face. He was still asleep, but there were twitches in his face that showed he was having a very pleasant dream. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she focused back on her efforts.

Harry was in fact having a very nice, hot dream. He was lying on a beach in the sun, the gentle breaking of waves filling the air. He was naked, but that was okay. Lying curled into his side was Hermione, just as naked, her hair spread out like a fan behind her. She was asleep, and the book she had been reading had slid out of her hand and down her rounded stomach. A few feet away on his other side Susan was sat in a reclined pose, arms cradling what he just knew was an infant to her breast. The sound of the waves was only broken by children's cries of excitement and joy. Lifting his eyes, Harry smiled wider when he saw Daphne sat with four infants at the waterline, her straw-blond hair shining wetly in the sun. Her skin was still very pale and porcelain like, but in this sun she'd soon have an excellent, all over tan.

"You do deserve this, you know."

Harry turned his head to regard Sirius over Hermione's shoulder. "What do you mean?" He asked simply.

Sirius waved a hand towards Daphne and the kids, then to Susan before nodding towards the slumbering Hermione. "Them. A family of your own kid. You've got three stunning, intelligent women who love you deeply. After all the shit you've had to put up with, you can be selfish for once in your life."

Harry nodded slowly, not fully agreeing with his godfather but also not willing to vocalise that sentiment. Hermione moaned quietly, and snuggled into him a bit more, throwing one bare leg over his lap.

Sirius grinned rakishly. "See, they know you Harry. Accept them, and enjoy it." He looked out to sea for a bit, and for an instant there was a shadow in his eyes. But then it was gone and he stood up, brushing a little sand from the loose off white shirt and cut off trousers he was wearing. Harry smiled as he looked at him. In those clothes and with his hair raked back Sirius Black looked a lot like a pirate.

"You'll beat him, and that whiskered ass-kisser too." Sirius continued as a shadow fell across Harry; Susan had gotten up and walked over. Kneeling on his free side she took his hand in her own. "Just don't forget to enjoy your life Harry. Make me and your parents proud." Sirius finished with a gesture over his shoulder.

Harry craned his head back to look past Sirius, further up the beach. A short distance away, sat on a recliner in the shade of a palm tree were his parents, almost in the same pose as he and Hermione were. His father was grinning at him, his free hand making a thumbs up signal. His mother had her head on James chest, and across the sand their eyes met. Time slowed as two sets of emeralds gazed into each other.

Then she smiled widely, and Harry felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he smiled back. He knew somehow that his mother approved, and that was all that mattered.

"Remember Harry..." Sirius crouched down, "... We'll always be with you. Here." And he tapped Harry's chest right over his heart. A pulse of warmth spread though Harry's body.

"But... how can I beat either of them?" Harry sighed in resignation even as Daphne walked out of the surf towards him, beads of water running down her naked form. "I'm just Harry..."

"You are also our son." He looked up to see that Sirius had been replaced by his mother seamlessly, before he met her eyes. Those eyes, just like his own, were filled with love and understanding.

"You have it in you Harry dear." Lily continued, her voice soft and gentle. "All you have to do is believe in yourself. As we do. As they do." Her hand waved to encompass the three young woman around him.

"Harry..." Lily whispered as she leaned forwards even further. "... Know this. Heaven is on your side, but there is no fate but what you make for yourself. The Prophecy may say that only you _can_ beat him, but it's _you_ who decides if you _will_. Don't ever give up, and someday, hopefully soon, we will be reunited."

Then she kissed him on the forehead.

As soon as her lips touched his skin, a powerful surge of warmth rushed throughout Harry's body, much stronger than the one with Sirius. Unlike that one, this wave didn't fade, but seemed to pulse through him again and again, in time with his heartbeat.

"We'll always be with you Harry." Lily told him softly as the pulses seemed to get stronger, focusing in his lap as his eyes drifted closed...

Only for them to jump open once more as he felt the beginning of a release. For an instant he stared sightlessly at the plain white rendered ceiling, before he glanced down, to see a straw-blond head.

"Daphne... I..." He made out before he lost control, and his eyes snapped shut again. An involuntary constricting of his arms pulled both Hermione and Susan tightly against him, startled yelps escaping their throats as their eyes shot open.

When he had ceased she lifted her head. Licking her lips, she smiled at the blurry, cross-eyed Boy-Who-Lived "Morning Harry. Sleep well?"

Susan looked at her close friend with wide eyes. "I thought you said..."

"When I was forced by those pigs in Slytherin, yeah." Daphne nodded. Then she looked at Harry once more. "But this time... I actually enjoyed it."

"Really?" Hermione looked both intrigued and a little disgusted.

Daphne nodded. "I know. I was surprised myself." Her smile faded however when she saw the look on Harry's face.

"They forced you to...?" Harry started, the heat rising in his tone.

"Nothing more than that Harry." Daphne cut him off, her cold, firm tone shutting down any further attempts to bring the subject up.

Hermione then broke in, shattering the tension that had begun to form between them. "Um... Harry, could you...?"

"Huh?" Then he realised where his hands were, tightly squeezing both girls' buttocks. His face flushed red as he relaxed his grip a bit. "Sorry."

Hermione smiled lightly as she shifted a little, tugging down her T-Shirt as she did. Propping herself up on one arm she looked down at him. "So... did you sleep better, after..."

Harry nodded, a small smile forming. "Yeah, actually. I feel... I don't know." He then looked at each of them in the eye. "But I do know that this... situation, between us four... I want it to work. I want us to be friends like this... forever."

Smiles bloomed on all three witches, and they all snuggled into him once more, kissing him passionately. After a couple of minutes though Hermione had to ask the question that was clearly burning in her brain.

"What changed Harry?" Hermione knew Harry very well, likely better than he knew himself sometimes. And thus she knew that his first impulse, with the prophecy and all it likely entailed hanging over him, would be to push them all away. He would be stupidly noble and isolate himself from everyone, in order to 'protect' them.

Harry sighed. "A dream I just had. A pleasant one, this time." He looked at them and then blushed.

A small smile appeared on Hermione's face. "Harry... was it a _naughty_ dream? Did we star in it?" The light-hearted teasing tone in her voice was obvious, but to those who knew her well the hint of concern was clear.

Harry flushed redder. "Not naughty... not in that way." He swallowed audibly.

"Oh no Harry." Susan jumped in. "You can't just say that and leave us hanging. Come on, spill!"

Harry sighed, realising that he was not getting out of this. "We were all on a tropical beach... naked."

Daphne's eyebrows rose as her smile widened. "And what were we doing naked on this beach?"

Harry flushed red. "You were playing in the surf... with three or four toddlers." As Daphne's eyes widened he turned to Susan. If anything, his blush deepened. "You had... a baby in your arms. Susan."

Susan's face now matched his in colouration.

Hermione gently reached out and turned his head to face her. "And me, Harry?" She asked a little nervously.

Harry answered her quietly. "You were asleep, much like we just were."

Hermione flushed a little, but smiled lightly. "No kids with me then?"

Harry's face now resembled the Weasley's hair. "With you, no. But... you... were..." He couldn't continue.

Hermione frowned for a moment, but then her face paled. "You mean..." She trailed off, but traced an arc with her free hand in front of her stomach, clearly miming running a hand over a pregnancy swollen belly.

At Harry's nod, her face turned bright red too.

Daphne found her tongue once more. "Was... was there anyone else with us?"

Harry nodded, prompting a gasp from Hermione.

"Who?" Susan asked in a tiny voice.

Harry's head slumped back, his eyes closing. "Sirius. And my parents."

As one the three young witches forgot their embarrassment and pulled him back upright so that they could all hug him, much like they had the previous night. As they held him in their collective embrace, Hermione nuzzled into his hair before asking the question on her mind.

"Did they say anything?"

For a long moment Harry didn't say anything. But then in a small voice he answered her.

"Si... Sirius, told me not to quit. My mom... She said she was proud of me..."

"As are we. As is anyone who knows, really knows, you." Hermione told him, hugging him that little tighter. Harry didn't reply verbally, just gripped her a little tighter too. Susan too found his arm around her drawing her in too. A small smile twitched at the corner of her mouth as she realised the significance of Harry's actions.

The mood was broken however when a stomach rumbled. Three sets of eyes moved to look at Daphne, who blushed.

"Thought you had breakfast already..." Hermione started with a smile.

"Hey!"

All four laughed together.

* * *

A short while later, as Hermione dressed, she smiled to herself as she thought back to what had happened earlier. Despite the embarrassing moments, this morning had been good for Harry. Daphne's actions had been... unexpected, but it did serve a purpose. It showed him that she did care, doing something that in the past had been forced onto her.

Similarly, his reaction to the news of her experiences in Slytherin showed _her_ that _he_ cared about her in return. She'd worried before that Daphne having been sorted into Slytherin initially would have been a cause for problems between them, much like it had for Ron.

Hermione grimaced at the thought of their former friend. His actions over the last few weeks had been beyond redemption. There was no doubt in her mind; she would no longer tolerate his attitude or his actions. He'd gone too far, been too intolerant, too self-righteous for her to stand any more.

She sighed, her eyes moving over to one of the photos she had on her dresser. None of them moved; they were stills from 'normal' wizarding photos that Professor McGonagall had produced for her. Her eyes' settled on the one from the end of Christmas break, 1st year. The three of them were smiling happily, she between the two of them. They had been so innocent back then, so naive. Had there been clues to Ron's true character back then?

If she was honest with herself, then the answer was yes. She only had to look at the events leading up to the point where they became friends; Halloween. It had been Ron's words that had driven her to tears... something that he later demonstrated he had a knack for. She knew that she had been very bossy back then, but his complaints still cut deeply...

"Hey." Harry's voice made her turn her head to see him leaning in through the doorway. His expression fell a little when he saw the one on her face. "What's the matter?"

Sighing she turned to look back at the photo. "We're going to have more trouble with Ron, aren't we?"

She heard Harry walk over before sitting down besides her. She felt him wrap an arm round her before he spoke again. "He's the one with the problem Hermione. If he can't accept that things have changed..." Harry trailed off.

Hermione rested her head against his shoulder. "Harry... just how much has changed between us? Where are we now?" Unknown to both of them, Susan and Daphne were at the door, watching and listening, hearts in their throats.

Harry froze, her words rebounding in his head. Just what where they now? After all they had shared, all that had happened, could they really go back to what they were before?

No. Too much had changed. Harry felt the _rightness _of having his arm around Hermione. He couldn't explain it, but that was how he felt. Question was, why now? The sex was the obvious answer, but he knew it wasn't. Had it been Ginny, or Lavender, or even Cho who'd done what Hermione – along with Susan and Daphne, he reminded himself – had done what they had done, he just knew things would be... awkward, between them. They wouldn't be able to meet each others eyes, or even remain in the same room together.

So why was it not like that between him and Hermione? And what about Susan and Daphne, why was he feeling just as content with them as well? Susan he knew only a bit, as she'd been part of the DA, but Daphne... he barely knew her, the divide between their two houses keeping them apart. True, that would no longer be an issue now, but still...

Deciding to put that question aside for now, Harry refocused his thoughts on the young witch at his side. Where she had always been, he suddenly realised. Ever since Halloween that first year she had been with him, supporting him, looking out for him. Her knowledge and brain had saved his ass more times than he could count. Even during their split in Third Year over his broom, he had known that she had only done what she did because she was worried about him and was looking out for him. The previous year, she had been the only one who had supported him unwaveringly. Where as nearly everyone else in the school thought he had managed to cheat his way into the Tournament, Hermione was the sole one who did not doubt him, who believed him. Even this past year she had stood by him, stayed even when he had been in his foulest mood.

And how he repaid her? A surge of guilt tore through Harry as he looked back on his actions over the years. Now, he could see that he'd taken her for granted, never looking beyond her unwavering support. He remembered clearly the look she had given him before... He flushed at the thought. It had been one of pure desire and want, something he'd never seen in her before. And it had all been directed at him.

More images from their past came to him, revealing things he'd missed back then. The pride in her expression when she'd been un-petrified and returned to the Great Hall. The hurt she had tried to hide when Ron had laid into her about the broom. The look in her eyes at the Yule Ball. The pain when he'd yelled at her this year... and when he'd staggered back to the common room after his first – and only – kiss with Cho.

But now... now he had been slapped in the face with the truth; Hermione _was_ a very attractive young woman. It wasn't overt or obvious like Cho, but deeper, more profound. She had beauty both within and without. It had been the bookworm image that had been created back in first year that had blinded him... that and his own flaws and failings.

Now that image was shattered, revealing what lay beneath. And what a breath taking image it was! Harry had never even suspected how utterly sexy his bookworm best friend could be. Then again, she could do anything when she put her mind to it.

Was he in love with her? Harry didn't know. He had no reference, no way to tell. But he was certainly willing to find out.

He hesitated though, fear crippling him. What if she didn't what to take their relationship to such a level? What if his interest in her scared her off, drove her away? But then he recalled her question... and the fear that had been beneath it. In a flash of insight he suddenly realised that she must be suffering the same doubts, the same fears. _'Gryffindor's charge forward.' _He told himself. Steeling himself, he turned his head towards her.

"You're still my best friend Hermione..." He paused for a moment, screwing up his courage. "...But I would like... to, explore, us becoming more."

Two warm brown eyes turned to look into his own. "What are you saying Harry?" She asked quietly, hopefully.

Harry had to look away; he couldn't speak with her looking at him like that. "Hermione, I... I don't know what love is, not really. But I do know that I want you in my life, in any way you want to. You've always been there for me. You've been looking out for me every year, helping me out and keeping me safe. And I've never really thanked you for any of it. I can't think of my life without you beside me any more. You mean so much to me, and not just because of the... of what you did. But it _did _open my eyes, and I saw you, truly, for the first time. And so, I was wondering if you would, maybe..."

He didn't finish, as Hermione's hand gripped his cheek and yanked his head up. Before anything could pass his lips they were stilled by hers. Harry's mind blanked, stunned at her aggression. But his body took over, sliding his other arm around her, drawing her closer. His head tilted a fraction, and the kiss deepened.

At the door Susan and Daphne smiled even as tears slipped down their cheeks. Both felt a tingling warmth spreading from their own lips, but neither paid it much attention. They only watched as the two before them continued to kiss.

At last they drew back, and Harry opened his eyes to look at her. Hermione's warm hazel orbs shone with a bright, happy light, even as tears gleamed as they ran down to her smile.

"Yes Harry."

"But... you didn't give me a chance to finish..."

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. "Honestly Harry, don't you think that I know you well enough by now to know what you were going to say?" Her eyes narrowed slightly in a playfully threatening manner. "And if you think I'd kiss any boy other than my boyfriend in that manner, then think again."

Slowly a grin formed on Harry's face, lighting up his whole face. His left hand came up and caressed her neck, prompting a sigh of pleasure from her. After a moment though she opened her eyes again.

"Just remember Harry, I won't be a stay at home, out of trouble girlfriend. I'm safer by your side. Don't try to wrap me in cotton-wool. You'll just get burned."

Harry sighed, but nodded slowly. He wanted to keep her safe, keep her out of harms way, but she would not let him. She wouldn't be Hermione if she did.

"Also, you can't control me Harry. I have other friends, and I won't let them be excluded." She looked deliberately towards the door. Harry followed her gaze, just in time to see the two watchers blush.

"How long were you two standing there?" He asked lightly.

Daphne shrugged. "Long enough." She answered simply.

Susan however stepped forwards and wrapped the two of them in a hug. "Congratulations you two. I always thought you should be together. Anyone with half a brain could see it." They blushed, but then Harry saw that Daphne was still at the door. Wordlessly he opened his left arm. Daphne was still for a moment, but then she stately walked forwards to sit on his knee, his arm around her.

Hermione's smile widened when she saw Harry's actions. Actions, not words, was Harry's strength. As she leaned into Susan's shoulder Hermione allowed her thoughts to wander to the years ahead. Between the four of them, they had all the traits of all the Founders of Hogwarts. Harry was courage and nobility, sometimes too much of both. Susan she knew was steadfast, loyal to a fault and would never, ever quit. The harder the challenge, the harder she worked. Daphne had the sly cunning and ambition that Salazaar had prized, both traits that could be used just as well on the light side.

As for herself, she could still clearly recall the words of the Sorting Hat, all those years ago.

"_Hmmm... tricky. Such burning intellect, so much passion for knowledge. Rowena would have been proud to have you in her house. And yet... your passion would stand out, and you have no need to be immersed in others like you. Slytherin worthy cunning and ambition, but your heritage would be... unwelcome, in there right now. I see great loyalty to those you believe in, and a good work ethic. Hufflepuff would work, except... your loyalty would be to individuals, not to a group as such. But what is this? Bravery to stand up for those who can't or won't, and such determination! I see now... you have the traits of all the houses, but the strongest ones are in GRYFFINDOR!"_

The rumbling of a stomach, almost immediately followed by a second... her own, cut off her moment of reflection. She felt her cheeks burn as she drew back from the hug... and noticed that Harry was also going red.

"Come on." She said standing up. "Let's get some breakfast.

* * *

Once the four of them reached the kitchen, Harry went straight to the fridge. Opening it, he had to take a moment to locate the bacon and eggs. The girls watched with wide eyes as he grabbed all three packets of bacon before deftly picking up the five eggs in the holder. Before any of them could say anything he'd already got a frying pan out on the gas hob, with what looked like a whole cup full of oil inside, and was just lifting the first rasher.

Surprisingly, it was Susan who first found her voice. "Harry... what are you doing?" She asked softly.

Harry froze, visibly tense, before he looked over his shoulder at them. At the sight of them he relaxed a little. Then he looked at the pan before him and his shoulders slumped. "Sorry. Habit." He replied as he dropped the rasher back in the pack while turning the gas off.

Hermione frowned as she stepped forwards to rest a hand on his shoulder gently. "You were going to cook all of this?" She gestured to the five eggs, two full packs and one half full pack of bacon before him. Then she looked at the pan and her frown deepened. "In that much oil?"

Harry shrugged. "That's how Uncle Vernon and Dudley like their breakfast."

All three girls paled at the implied meaning of his words.

"Do you mean... that all of that would have been given to your cousin and uncle?" Susan asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Now he's off the diet again, Dudley get's through seven rashers and three eggs each morning. Vernon's five and two, respectively." He paused for a moment. "And let's not forget the half-dozen slices of toast. And the half packet of biscuits. And the pack of sausages they split."

By then Susan was feeling nauseous, and Daphne appeared to be turning green. "How do those two eat that much, each morning?" Daphne asked.

Harry sighed. "What else? Pure greed."

Hermione's frown was even deeper. "What about you? Or your aunt?"

Harry bowed his head. "Aunt Petunia doesn't eat much in the morning, if anything. I get... scraps, and leftovers."

There were three very sharp intakes of breath at that admission. "Not this time Harry." Susan put forward firmly, daring him to challenge her.

"That's right Harry." Hermione continued. "This summer, you eat what you want, when you want."

Harry looked up at her, a tiny spark of mischief in his eyes. "Even sweets and sugar?"

Smiles broke out on the other three as Hermione stuck out her tongue. "Prat."

Harry chuckled softly, and Susan felt reassured that he could laugh, even lightly. With a little luck, their actions last night had helped him recover.

Hermione's eyes returned to the food still out on the counter. "Bacon and egg does appeal this morning. But we won't need as much." She stepped towards the fridge, taking one full pack of bacon with her. Once the pack was set back on the shelf, she reached out, collected one of the eggs, and returned it to the tray. Closing the fridge she lowered her hand to the freezer below. "Put the oven on will you Harry?"

Soon a dozen hash-browns were tucked away in the oven, and Hermione was hovering over the hob, looking at the frying pan filled with oil. "This is so un-healthy." She stated firmly.

Harry nodded. "I always thought so, but if I didn't do what Vernon and Dudley wanted..." He trailed off, his face falling.

While Hermione looked appalled, and Daphne sick, Susan pushed her own temper aside and stood up. With three swift steps she reached Harry and enfolded him in her arms. Harry stiffened for a moment before relaxing into the hug, accepting what she offered. In her heart Susan felt the warmth of his acceptance, and she smiled.

Seeing that she had him in hand, Hermione smiled at her friend before turning back to the pan. After a second close look, she shrugged and grabbed the bottle. The other three watched in amazement as she poured most of the pristine oil back into the bottle.

"Waste not, want not." Was her explanation.

A few minutes later they were sat down to eat. Hermione had just put the grill back after serving three rashers to each of them, making sure to give Harry the largest three over his protests. For a couple of minutes the only sounds were the clinking of metal cutlery on china as the four ate almost ravenously.

Once her plate was almost clear Susan looked up at her bushy-haired friend. "So... what are we going to do today?" She asked as she reached for her orange juice.

"Let me guess." Harry cut in. "Homework?"

Hermione blushed as she pushed the last piece of hash-brown around her plate. "Not right away, or all at once..." She looked up at them. "But wouldn't be nice to get it all out of the way quickly?" Both Susan and Daphne nodded, while Harry simply shrugged.

By the time lunch came round they had all nearly finished their Transfiguration work, even Harry, although his was the shortest. Emma Granger had returned home to join them; it fell to Hermione to explain the subtle differences between their jobs. As Harry finished off the last bit of his essay the three witches assisted Emma in making sandwiches for everyone. Soon they were sat out back on the patio in the sun.

Emma looked over at her daughter, a small smile on her lips. "Homework already dear?"

Hermione just looked calmly back. "If we get it out of the way first, we can focus on more important things."

"Such as?" Emma asked, the lightly teasing note gone from her voice.

Hermione visibly took a deep breath. "Training and researching. There is so much we need to know it's not funny."

Emma's eyes drifted over to Harry, who had slumped in his chair a little. Hermione caught her action.

"Yes, it has to do with Harry... and before you say anything Harry..." She whirled round to look at him, freezing him with his mouth open. "...understand this: despite what happened to me last time, I will not be pushed away. None of us will. At the very least, you'll need us to keep the Death Eaters off your back while you deal with Voldermort."

Harry looked between the four of them nervously. The three young women all looked at him firmly. Under that combined look, Harry relented and nodded.

"Now..." Hermione turned back to her mother, her tone light and easy. "Despite that, we can still take the time to relax and enjoy ourselves. Act our ages, have some fun." She smiled towards Harry, who brightened up.

Emma Granger too smiled, pleased that her reclusive, bookworm daughter was willing to get out of the house and interact with others. For years now she'd drawn deeper and deeper into her books, staying inside and not mingling with other kids her age. Part of the reason she and Nathan had agreed for her to go to Hogwarts was the hope that she'd come out of her shell, interact more. The first few letters had not shown that happening though.

Then Harry Potter had come into her life, and her darling daughter had begun to emerge. For that alone Emma was forever in Harry's debt.

* * *

**DR: **The next few chapters will be... slow. Got to bring Susan and Daphne up to speed on everything that the core two have been through. Plus the obligatory Shopping Trip, Gringotts Visit and other stuff. An awful lot's going to happen in the next two-three weeks for them (I actually have an excel spreadsheet with a calendar and events written in! July '06 is getting... cramped) The next update will be in a fortnight's time, December 25th. That's when my portrail of Dumbledork, and why he's not already in Azkaban, will be explained... I hope.


	11. Looking Over the Past

**AN:** First, Merry Christmas to you all! Here's that Christmas update you've all been waiting for. As a bonus, this chapter has been beta'ed, so things should be much clearer now, especially in regards to Dumbledore. I'll say more about him at the end.

Now, if there is enough demand, I might upload chapter 12 on Boxing Day, otherwise (beta permitting) it should go up on the 1st.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon for the four teens was spent out in the back garden, soaking up the sun as they talked about their years at Hogwarts and before. Their pillow talk when they woke up after curing Harry had only covered what the Headmaster had told him that night after returning from the Ministry. Now Harry and Hermione told both young women the whole, un-elaborated story of their five years at Hogwarts.

Susan and Daphne had both worked out some of the details, but both were blown away by what their two close friends had gone through. They smiled at the wonder and awe in their voices when they spoke of seeing Hogwarts for the first time, shook their heads at Draco's duplicity. The encounter with Fluffy was a mixture of horror and humour: the idea of meeting such a creature, and Hermione's & Ron's reaction later on. Hermione huffed when Harry trotted out her 'killed or worse, expelled' line, but a smile quickly replaced the frown.

As it was important later on, Harry told them about the Mirror of Erised, something he'd only shared with Ron before, along with Dumbledore's cryptic warnings and comments.

The obstacles to reach the Stone, and Harry's subsequent encounter with the Voldemort possessed Quirrell, were met with similar reactions, but Hermione noticed a frown on Daphne's delicate features. When she called her on it, Daphne commented that the tasks themselves had been very fortuitous. She proceeded to list them all. The flying keys, perfect for Harry, a proven Seeker. The potion logic puzzle, ideal for Hermione. Ron's chess skills were well known, so a giant chess set was simple for him to defeat. The Cerberus was beaten by their friendship with Hagrid, who couldn't keep a secret no matter how hard he tried. And they'd already proven that a troll was no match. The Devil's Snare was beaten simply by remembering the lesson, and would have been perfectly suited to Neville. Both Harry and Hermione had looked at each other, their minds troubled. Only the Mirror had stumped Voldermort/Quirrell, but Harry had beaten that without even trying.

Moving to their second year, Harry was pressured to relate the story of his first meeting with Dobby, and what happened after. All three young women were clearly itching to go and curse Vernon Dursley to doomsday for doing what he did, though what happened when the three Weasley's rescued him prompted several chuckles.

The first mention of Lockhart prompted deep, embarrassed blushes from all three witches, with Hermione's the worst. She could not believe she'd been so easily fooled. Harry and the others had reassured her that they thought no ill of her for that. The fool had managed to hoodwink a lot of people, most a lot older and, supposedly, wiser.

Harry's first meeting with Lucius Malfoy, with his verbal sneering of both the Weasley's and Hermione's parents, was received to scowls. It was clear to both of them that the apple had not fallen far from the tree in the Malfoy family.

Of course, the tale of second year was dominated by the petrifactions, and the 'Heir of Slytherin' thing. Susan took the moment to apologise to Harry for her actions and treatment of him that year. While she had not shunned him or pointed fingers, she had not defended him either. Hannah had also raised doubt that it had been him. Harry smiled and told her he was not angry with her: everyone was tense that year. The Polyjuice potion prompted looks of awe from Daphne and Susan... as well as both laughter and commiseration when Hermione revealed what had happened to her. Looking back now Hermione was able to laugh at it, but Harry still could picture her face when Ron had laughed back then. It hurt to see the look of dejection and embarrassment in his minds eye. He privately vowed that Ron would apologise to her for that... along with everything else.

Then came the attack on Hermione, and it was clear to them the sense of loss Harry had suffered while she had been petrified. Harry commented scathingly that that had been his first big clue to how he felt about her, and he'd completely missed it. In response Hermione had wrapped an arm around him, saying that she didn't blame him one bit: boys often took longer to work such things out. What was important was that he had, in the end. They had shared a smile before kissing lightly, mindful of the other two witches watching.

Hagrids arrest had drawn scowls from them all: despite his preferences in regards to what creatures made good pets, the half-giant was much loved by the students, including many from Slytherin. The bumbling, foolish Minister Fudge had clearly been controlled by Malfoy Senior.

Then had come the trip into the Forbidden Forest, right into the heart of the Acromantula nest.

"THERE'S AN ACROMANTULA NEST IN THE MIDDILE OF THE FORBIDDEN FOREST?" Susan had screeched, sitting bolt upright so sharply her hair whipped about. This extreme reaction from the usually unflappable and calm Hufflepuff had both Harry and Hermione worried.

"Harry... how many were there?" There was a terrified tremor in her voice.

"I didn't stick around long enough to make a headcount..." Harry began with only a tinge of sarcasm. "...But at least a hundred the size of a large dog..." He trailed off at the white face Susan was now sporting.

"What's wrong Sus'?" Daphne asked softly.

Susan's answer was almost a whisper. "There's never been a nest of that size... ever." She looked up sharply. "I need to inform Auntie."

Hermione quickly handed her some notepaper and a pen. Susan frantically scribbled a note before rushing indoors. A minute or so later they saw her Barn owl slip out of the window of the room she and Daphne were sharing. When she returned to the group Susan shivered as she sat down.

"Why is this so important?" Harry asked, feeling like the village idiot for having to ask.

Susan looked up. "What do Acromantula feed on?"

Hermione, as usual, was the first to answer. "Warm blooded mammals primarily. Smaller ones such as mice, rats and the like."

Susan nodded. "But as they get bigger, so too does the prey. Sheep, goats, cows..." She trailed off.

Daphne was the first to gasp. "People."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "And there's a school of over three hundred nearly defenceless children almost on their doorstep..." Her voice was barely above a horror filled whisper.

Harry had to swallow back his nausea, trying not to think about what would happen if those giant spiders descended on the school intent on making a meal out of the students. He knew that he, Ron and Fang had only gotten away thanks to the flying Ford Anglia.

To get their minds off the horror that they had hopefully prevented now, Harry resumed his tale of Second Year. From the discovery of the torn page in Hermione's hand – both the other two had light-heartedly teased her about ripping a page from a book – to the revelation that Ginny had been taken down to the Chamber of Secrets. Learning that it had been a Basilisk that had been prowling the school had shocked both young women, though the fact that Harry and Ron had used Lockhart as their Canary brought chuckles.

Unconsciously, Harry played down the fight with the Basilisk itself, both in terms of its size and the peril he'd been in. There was little he could do to downplay how close he came to death after he was bitten, but it was the description of how he defeated the teenaged spirit of Tom Riddle – who would later on become Lord Voldermort – that drew attention.

"You say when you stabbed the diary, ink spurted out like blood and there was a shrill screaming?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah..." Harry frowned. "Why?"

Daphne had a troubled look on her face. "I don't know..." She shared a significant glance with the other two witches though. She then asked what happened to the Basilisk. "After all, it's a fortune in galleons. Basilisk parts are used in many potions, but there hasn't been a basilisk killed and harvested in centuries."

Harry had shrugged. "As far as I know, it's still down there." Daphne's eyes had gleamed slightly.

After getting a fresh set of drinks, they sat down once more and started on Third Year. Harry included the incident with uncle Vernon's sister, which had all three witches laughing once she had been blown up; they'd scowled at her words regarding his parents. Though his meeting with Fudge later that same night had caused them to raise eyebrows in concern and suspicion. They all shared their initial encounters with the 'Monster Book of Monsters' that Hagrid had assigned for them that year: Harry won with jumping on it.

Hermione was unsure if Harry would talk about Sirius in regard to that year, but to his credit Harry did not falter much. He mainly talked about the dementors, and their effect on him. Susan threw in how her Auntie had been furious over the placement of those monsters, over her objections. She'd already been warned to steer well clear of them, even before Dumbledore said basically the same thing after the Welcome Feast. She also related the mood within Hufflepuff after their Quidditch game: while most of the house were overjoyed to have won, a small group, led by Cedric himself, had felt that they had not earned the victory.

Harry talked about his lessons with Remus, the first friend of his parents that he knew of. He then admitted that the memory that worked for him against the dementors had been about family. He didn't know if it was real or not, a fragment from his first year before that fateful Halloween or a imagined image, but it was powerful. Hermione then revealed that she'd been using a time-turner that year, to attend all the classes. Both Susan and Daphne were shocked, but not surprised. They had noticed that something was up with their new friend.

It was then that Harry knelt before her and apologised for his behaviour after that Christmas break, over the Firebolt. He understood why she'd done what she did, but he'd over-reacted. Hermione gently kissed him and told them that there was nothing to forgive: the enforced separation had allowed her to focus on becoming friends with Susan and Daphne. Besides, even at the time she'd known that he would have understood and forgiven her sooner if Ron hadn't involved. The other however two were not quite as quick to forgive Harry. They'd seen the tears in her eyes afterwards.

"If you ever make her cry like that again Potter," Daphne had threatened. "I'll break both your kneecaps, and _then_ I'll get my wand out and start hexing!"

Harry had held his hands up in surrender. "You have full permission to do whatever you like to whatever is left of me, after Hermione, her parents and myself are done."

Then came the big climax of Third Year, the only one that didn't include Voldemort directly, though his touch was still there. Although both of them had already been told that Sirius was innocent of the crimes he was accused of, finding out how that information came to light was enlightening. They both scowled when Harry told of Snape's 'triumphant' entrance, and cheered when Harry had sent him flying into the wall.

Hermione took over the story when it came to them turning back time to save Sirius and Buckbeak. They cheered again when she told them of seeing herself deck Malfoy, and laughed with them when she told how they'd saved Buckbeak, making a total fool of the Minister and the executioner he'd brought along. The distraction of Professor Lupin, and the saving of themselves and Sirius Black prompted gasps.

They were laughing again however when Harry quoted, word for word, what Hermione had said as they had flown up on Buckbeaks back to rescue Sirius, while Hermione herself just flushed red and hid her face.

The laughter died however as they all looked down at the notepads on their laps. Before they had started they had agreed to make notes during the tales, to see if there was anything wrong. While Harry's was blank – he'd focused on telling the stories - the three girls had several pages of thoughts and questions that had arisen. But before they could even start to think about them, or go into Fourth Year, Emma Granger stepped out through the patio, calling them in for dinner. The four of them quickened their pace when the smell of freshly cooked fish and chips reached their noses.

* * *

The evening meal was just finishing when Hermione noted her fathers distracted manner. After a moment toying with a piece of his battered Cod, he looked up at her. "You mentioned training to Emma earlier today. Could you explain that in more detail?"

Hermione took a moment to organise her thoughts, laying her fork down as she did. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Susan, Daphne and Harry looking at her.

"I was thinking along the lines of being more physically active. Admittedly the school does keep us active, with all the stairs, but we need better endurance."

"I see. Care to explain why?" He looked at her guardedly.

Hermione couldn't meet that gaze. She bowed her head before answering. "Dad... I... I have a confession to make. I haven't told you everything about what happens at school."

"We already knew that dear." Emma cut in, causing to Hermione's eyes to widen. "I could tell that you were holding things back. I guess so that we wouldn't pull you out?"

Hermione nodded.

Nathan looked pained, but resigned.

"Honey... I'll be frank." He started as he set his cutlery down. Lacing his fingers together he leaned forwards, elbows resting on the table. "If it was totally up to me, and if I hadn't read many of those books of yours, I'd have you out of that school, and that world, faster than you can say it. No, let me finish. You are my daughter, and until you have a child of your own, you cannot understand what that means to me. What you mean to me.

"But... I also know that you are a young woman now, not a little girl that needs me to protect her. I know that you're old enough to make your own mind up now, indeed for a few years now. I know what you've done..." He looked significantly towards Harry, who paled rapidly even as Hermione's face turned red with embarrassment. "...But I'm not going to make a scene." He then looked at his wife. "It's not like I can lecture you for doing what we did ourselves." He admitted with a slight smile. Emma just blushed a little in reply.

All three teens were slack jawed as they looked at him in shock, Harry the most stunned. He fully expected to be hoisted by his balls when her father found out. Yet he knew, and _wasn't_. The Dursleys had certainly done their best to beat into him that doing 'That' outside of marriage was Wrong with a capital W, and those who did so should be sent to prison. He brought his thoughts back as Nathan continued to speak.

"I'm going to trust that you know what you are doing. That you know what the risks are. That you are aware of what you are doing, and that you both agree on how far to go. Just, please, don't be afraid to turn me or your mum for help or advice."

Hermione had a tear in her eye as she stood up and moved around to wrap her father in a hug. "Thanks daddy." She half whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She'd been dreading her parents reactions to what she'd done, going against social expectations and codes. To have her father, the one she had really feared would explode, accept it – however reluctantly – was a balm for her own slightly guiltily conscious.

A tiny thread of jealousy slithered about Harry's gut, but he ruthlessly stamped down on it. He would not wish for Hermione, the woman he really, really cared about, who had stood by him ever since they met, to have to grow up parentless like he had. Fate had been a bitch to him until now, but he would not wish the same on anyone.

Well, maybe Draco. Certainly Voldemort.

And possibly Dumbledore.

After Hermione had sat back down, Emma looked between the four of them. "I take it all of you would be taking part?"

Hermione frowned, clearly thinking. "Us, and maybe a few more. Depends if we can persuade them to join." She looked sadly at Harry. "Too bad we can't practice magic over the summer. We'd be able to learn new spells..."

Harry shrugged. "The spells we already know are enough. We just need to practice them." He frowned in thought himself for a moment. "One thing we'll have to change for next term when we start up the DA again is to actually do combat fights, not have everyone standing and firing curses at each other. The Death Eaters won't be using duelling rules with us."

"Harry..." Emma said softly in a concerned tone. "You sound like your preparing to go to war."

Harry turned his gaze on her, and Emma felt that brilliant emerald gaze go right through her. "It's already started Mrs Granger, and we're losing. For a year now the Minister has denied the return of Voldermort, slandering anyone who says otherwise and blocking any move to prepare for the worst. The supposed 'Leader of the Light' is more concerned with controlling me than actually dealing with the problem, while the rest of the Wizarding World is a load of fickle sheep, who believe what they're told."

"Not all of them Harry." Daphne commented. "Not all."

"Sorry Daphne. But you have to admit, the Ministry has been less than effective against the Death Eaters. I just hope that those who were arrested last week remain in prison, and aren't given a chance to bribe their way out."

"Fat chance of that Harry." Susan reassured him. "Auntie's all over them. She's never liked Malfoy..."

"I doubt anyone actually does..." Daphne muttered.

"...And as long as she's the Director of the DMLE, he's not going to slip away from her."

Harry looked at her intently. "Could Fudge overrule her? He and Malfoy are pretty chummy."

Susan had to take a moment to re-engage her brain; Harry's look had blanked her mind with a surge of warmth. "Unlikely. He's on really thin ice as it is. He orders someone who was caught red handed as a Death Eater released, and he's out."

Daphne suddenly paled. "What if Vo... Voldemort decides to take _her_ out?"

Susan gasped, her face paling almost as much as Daphne's had when she heard she had to return to the Slytherin dorms. Fear ran rampant in her eyes.

Harry's however had narrowed into brilliant green slits. "We need to warn her right away..."

With a small 'pop' Dobby appeared besides his chair, goggle eyes wide with excitement. Five knitted tea cosy hats - Hermione blushed as she recognised her handiwork – were perched on his head, one atop another. The socks on his feet were mismatched, and he wore a tunic formed from a pillowcase, with a miniature Hogwarts rode over the top. "The Great Harry Potter Sir needs a quick messenger?" He was almost bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

"Dobby!" Harry was startled at the surprising arrival, but quickly recovered. "Can you go to another wizards or witches home to deliver a message?" He asked quickly. Besides him Hermione was already scribbling in her notebook.

Dobby nodded so eagerly his ears flapped about his head. "Dobby can do, Master Harry Potter sir!"

Harry passed the sheet from Hermione to the excited elf. "Then take this to Madam Bones, quickly!" The urgency in his tone was clear, as was the worry. Hearing thus, Dobby popped away without any fanfare.

Turning back to the table, Harry saw that Susan's face was still white with horror, and she was trembling slightly. Reaching out he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "She'll be okay Susan." He said softly. His touch snapped her out of her shock, and she smiled faintly at him in thanks.

* * *

In her office at the Ministry of Magic, Amelia Bones rested her elbows on her desk, her hands rubbing her forehead in an attempt to ease the headache that pounded behind her skull. On the desk before her were the testimonials from Hermione, Susan, Daphne & Astoria Greengrass and Harry, all regarding Draco's latest attack. The letter regarding the Acromantula lay to one side; she'd alerted the Department for Magical Creatures earlier, and hopefully they would do something. Despite the terror she'd seen in their faces when she told them.

She'd kept the letter however, as it yet another piece of evidence against Dumbledore. Her attention, and the cause of her headache, were the three charge sheets that rested before her. One for Draco Malfoy, another for Severus Snape, and the third for Dumbledore himself. Snape's went onto two pages, while the headmasters was now onto five. Attached to Draco's were similar sheets for Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Parkinson and Bulstrode.

Yet… her hands were tied. Snape was protected by Dumbledore, so to get him he either had to slip up outside of Hogwarts over the summer, or Dumbledore had to go down first. But, with the current climate, bringing him down was not an option.

For over fifty years, the Magical World had been indoctrinated to revere the headmaster, the defeater of Grindelwald. Even while the Prophet had slandered him, people still respected him. Now, when it was revealed that he had been telling the truth all along, the people were all but cheering in the street for him.

The fact that he'd duelled Voldemort, and lived, just boosted his image.

And that was the lynchpin of her problem. Dumbledore was seen as the only one who could hold Voldemort in check: he was the only one who the Dark Lord feared, if the rumours were true. Amelia had no delusions as to what would happen if he was sent to Azkaban: Voldemort would move openly, swiftly. Hell, he'd likely stroll into the Ministry, declare himself Emperor, and get away with it without a fight or even a token resistance from anyone but the Aurors. And even then, she suspected that over half would cave without a fight.

There was also the matter of Hogwarts. It was a tempting target for someone like Voldemort: if he held the students as hostages, Magical Britain would surrender in seconds. It was Dumbledore's presence there that kept him away. She'd spoken quietly to several Wizengamot members, and not one would even hear about any 'supposed' wrong-doing on the 'Great Albus Dumbledore's' part. Therefore, until the Voldemort issue was resolved – or someone equally able to scare him into laying low came along – Dumbeldore had to remain at Hogwarts, purely to keep the children safe. She hated it, but she could see no way at this time to get around the problem.

Hence her headache. She felt like she'd been slamming her head against a wall for the past few days.

The only one who could possibly replace Dumbledore was Harry, but he had to overcome several problems first. His age counted against him, as was his tarnished public image. While the Prophet had eased off on their smear campaign, there was enough doubt in their articles that people were unsure at what he'd do. His reclusive-ness was also a problem. Magical Britain, unfortunately, expected it's heroes to be very public figures, something which she knew now was not Harry's style. The Quibbler article had helped, but he was still seen as unreliable. Dumbledore was a proven hero, Harry more an unknown. While he was 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', by his own admission he did not know _how _he lived through that night.

Still, he was their best hope to not only get rid of Voldemort, but also bring Dumbledore to justice. She'd already started drawing up plans for Hit-Wizard training for him. Her first choice as teacher was Senior Auror Shackbolt, but she had some doubts about his loyalty right now. On the political side she hoped his association with the Greengrass's would help. While Mr Greengrass was primarily a trader, his father Lord Greengrass and his wife Eleanor Greengrass were much more politically active. She'd already spoken with Lord Greengrass, and he had pledged to support Harry however he could: he was as incensed at what had been happening as she had. From the look in his eyes, it appeared that some personal, dark memories were stirred up by what his granddaughters had nearly gone through. While they were labelled as 'Dark' by many, Amelia knew them quite well, and knew that label could only be applied to the other branch of the family.

Draco was an easier target, but she was being blocked at every turn by the Minister. Despite his rapidly failing support, he continued to state that 'Lucius is a fine man, as is his son. This is a pack of lies, and I will not stand for it!' She'd come very close to hexing him, but then she'd have been fired, then sentenced to Azkaban herself… for treason.

Funny how he was so eager to protect himself and those who bribed him, but didn't give a damn about anyone else.

However… if Fudge was dismissed, then she had a real chance to get Draco to trial. As long as Lucius remained in custody – something she was fighting daily with Fudge about – then his main ways to get off was cut off; money and the threat of reprisals. Amelia had no delusions regarding Lucius Malfoy: the 'man' – she used the term _very _loosely – was a Death Eater, and by all accounts was close to Voldemort, maybe even his right hand. If she could get Draco, it would be a serious breach of Dumbledore's political armour too, an opening for when it was time to bring him to trial as well…

There was a 'pop' besides her, and despite her fatigue her wand was up and out in an eye blink… to be levelled at the oddest dressed House Elf she'd ever seen. The small elf looked at her, nodded and held out a sheet of muggle note paper. "Message from The Great Master Harry Potter madam Bonesey."

Relaxing, Amelia took the note: the Death Eaters would not think to use muggle products. The elf popped away as she read it. She nodded to herself when she finished it; it was not unexpected. Though she could not deny the chill that ran down her spine at the prospect.

She looked once more at the charge sheets, her eyes hardening. With a determined expression she staring writing, building a cast-iron case against Draco that no-one – not even Dumbledore himself – could refute.

* * *

Far to the north, Dumbledore sat morosely in his office, pondering the events of the last week of term. He had three of his Heads of House, another two professors and the School Matron screaming in his ear for the expulsion of young Mister Malfoy and the other Death Eater children, but he was far, far more concerned with what might have changed with regard to Harry Potter to even consider it. Besides, Draco was still a child. Still lots of time to bring him back to the Light. He trusted Severus to handle the situation appropriately. Harry's situation, however…

Like it had for the whole of the previous year, indeed ever since it had been made, the Prophecy dominated his thoughts. _'Neither can live while the other survives.'_ It always came back to that. No matter how he looked at it, Dumbledore always came back to the same meaning.

Harry Potter had to die before Voldemort could.

It was inevitable.

He'd reached this awful conclusion years ago, just after that fateful Halloween night.

Accepting this, however reluctantly, he'd planned how to maximise the positive effect from his death, and reduce the negatives for the last fifteen years. It would be vitally important that Harry goes to his death in a noble, self-sacrificing manor. Ideally, Voldemort would threaten the school, and Harry would offer himself in exchange for the schools safety. If it also protected his wife and child, all the better. Once the Prophecy was over, Voldemort would be exposed to anyone with a wand. Dumbledore hoped to be the one to finish him, but really anyone could take the Dark Lord down if they had a chance.

Of course, getting rid of all of Riddle's other Horcrux's first was most important. Dumbledore was convinced that Riddle would have made seven, as that was the most arithmetically powerful number. One was already destroyed, a fortuitous occurrence. He had clues to another two, and strong suspicions regarding two more. The sixth he was unsure of.

But the seventh... he knew where it was. Had known all these years.

Harry's scar.

There was no way to remove a Horcrux from a living being... without killing said living being. One way or another, Harry had to die.

But he could not just be killed. No, he had to die in the correct manner, in the right setting and at the right time. Just defeating Riddle was not Dumbledore's only concern. The Wizarding world was decaying, eaten away by the radical ideas that were being brought into it by well meaning but foolish muggleborns like Miss Granger. Poor girl didn't understand that applying muggle values and systems onto the magical world would tear it apart. No, it needed strong, determined, magical based leadership to survive. Dumbledore believed this, with every fibre of his being, therefore it was true. For was not he Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard alive, all knowing and never wrong?

For the Greater Good of the magical world, Dumbledore had spent his life in moulding the young to accept what they needed to accept. And so far, he'd succeeded in the main. There were a few each year who didn't fall in, but each year there were less and less. It was also why he'd set limits to the punishments that the Professors could hand out almost as soon as he'd been made Headmaster. Those who committed wrong deeds had to be carefully nurtured and guided back to the Light. Having them expelled or even imprisoned when they lashed out would just drive them further into darkness. Teaching the young how to forgive was one of their main roles as teachers, after all.

He held the three powerful positions he held to guide Magical Britain into the ideal, perfect society. But the other nations had to be kept away until he could reveal its splendour. They wouldn't understand that in order to make the world better, to make the people better, there sometimes had to be a period of darkness, to temper them like a muggle blacksmith would temper iron. Yes, the Dark Lord was too much, but Albus knew that having him around focused the minds of the people, made them forget about the tiny cracks and flaws that existed in society right now, which they would otherwise push up and make larger.

But time was not on his side. There had been serious set backs, the worst of which had been that Prophecy. He needed to be the greatest wizard alive to fully guide the world. But age was catching up with him, even after all he had done to extend his life. He could see himself dying soon, his work unfulfilled, and the world collapsing into a darkness it would never escape.

With this in the back of his mind, Dumbledore had examined the problem of Mister Potter... and late one night he'd had the idea. It was one that was morally questionable, but he could see that the end result more than justified the means.

He'd already set into motion the plan to mould young Harry into the form needed: by leaving him with his mothers sister, he'd grow up far away from the magical world, and thus be dependent on others for knowledge of it. It also inhibited the Horcrux in his head, since it would use ambient magic to fuel itself and take over the boys mind. After only four years in Hogwarts, Dumbledore could tell it was starting to have an effect on the boy. His temper was more easily roused, more sustained. It also meant that he would not recognise his own feelings or those of others around him, but that could be dealt with. The dark years with that family were a necessary evil, though not for a moment did he believe that it was as bad as Harry or some members of the Order claimed. Lily Evans had been a kind, generous young woman who always took time to help others, and had been a devoted mother to Harry. Her sister was sure to be the same; she would not allow her nephew to suffer. Harry was just rebelling, saying things were that bad to assert himself and gain attention. All kids did it at some time or another. It was the same with these tales of Severus being just as bad as Draco: preposterous. He was firm, yes, but cruel? Never.

Besides, it would not do to have him fall in love with someone... inappropriate. Such as Miss Granger. It was well known among the Houses, especially the other Ancient and Noble ones, that the Potters had historically favoured the smartest muggleborns of their days. Dorea Black had been a rare, but not unheard of, divergence to this trend. With the balance of power right now, it would be disastrous if the Chosen One married a Muggleborn. The Pureblood families would be ostracised, the knowledge and history they had forever abandoned, and society would collapse into anarchy and chaos as the muggleborns tore it apart in their restless, ceaseless drive to 'modernise' things. No, He had to marry a pureblood to stabilise the world... but it had to be a Pureblood from the right sort of family. A family that was firmly dedicated to the Light.

House Prewett had long been supporters and confidents of House Dumbledore. And Molly Prewett Weasley was one of his biggest supporters, although her banshee like scolding was hard on the ears. She'd borne a daughter shortly before Harry's parents were killed. With his assumed Guardianship of young Mister Potter, Dumbledore had arranged with Molly a Marriage Contract between Harry and Ginerva Weasley, to be executed when Ginerva turns sixteen. To ensure the proper feelings between them, he would provide suitable potions – produced by his potions master – to Molly that she would give to both teens. It was clear that young Miss Weasley had been on them for long time; her infatuation with Harry was obvious. He'd lightly probed her mind on occasion before she came to Hogwarts, and had learned that Ginerva genuinely believed everything her mother had said about her and Harry marrying some day, and was unaware of the actual motives or goals. It left a slight sick taste in his mouth, but it was best that the girl be innocent of everything. Besides, a young girl could not be trusted to keep a secret.

Mister Potter however had been the problem, at least until he started Hogwarts. It had been masterfully staged, if he did say so himself. Hagrid was such a biddable man. Incapable of keeping a secret; there was not a devious bone in his body. But he could be subtly directed and controlled. It had been a risk having him leave Harry alone for a few minutes at Kings Cross, but a justified one.

Molly had played her part beautifully, as had her drafted sixth son Ronald. The boy had befriended Harry almost from the get go, granting Dumbledore so many ways to mould Harry into what he needed. His presence ensured that Harry would not dig deep into the workings of the Wizarding World, distracting him with frivolous pursuits. The combination of the lonely environment he'd grown up in – an unpleasant, but necessary evil - and Ronald's own lazy attitude should have made Harry into the perfect tool to end Riddle. The poor boy didn't even know how he was being used to keep Harry in line with Dumbledore's plan. Then again, he was not that bright anyway. And after his encounter with the preserved brain of a former seer in the Department of Mysteries… well, _anyone's _brain would be a mess afterwards, even when contact was controlled. Ronald's had been anything but. It was likely to have inflicted permanent brain damage to the poor boy. A pity, but he could still be used to pace Harry.

Miss Granger's presence however had thrown everything into doubt. She was exactly the type Harry needed to avoid to fulfil his destiny. Smart, driven, perceptive and caring. He still could not believe that the Sorting Hat had placed her in Gryffindor, rather than Ravenclaw. At first she'd been isolated by her own intelligence and eagerness to learn, at odds with the rest of the house. He'd paid particular attention to the type of people who went to each house, nudging the traits as appropriate. It would not do to have a population too intermingled, after all. Only a rigid, structured society would survive, with each person having their proper place.

But then things had started to spiral out of his control. Riddle, having possessed Professor Quirrell, had released a troll into the school. Normally not a problem, but Harry had gone after Miss Granger, who was not the Great Hall when Quirrell had made that announcement. In the aftermath, she had become his second close friend, something that he wished had not happened.

Things had gotten worse as the years progressed. She had had more and more influence on him, although Ronald had managed to remain part of the group, barely. Dumbledore had been pleased when he had managed to split Harry from Miss Granger over that broom, but then the rift had closed and things were back to how they were before. And while she had been of use in the unfortunate events over the years, her continued presence was worrying.

Then the Tri-Wizard had happened, and Ronald's lazy, jealous, self-centred nature had taken over. He'd turned on Harry, driving him towards Miss Granger. This was very bad, as it was clear even then that Harry was attracted to her, even if he was not aware of it himself. And if Harry married her – or any other girl, for that matter – before the marriage contract he'd made with Molly could be executed, then it would be voided, and all his plans for his continued guidance would fall through. And there was the minor issue that since _he'd _be the defaulter, he'd have to pay the price.

Desperate plans were drawn up between himself and Molly. Ronald had already told her, albeit reluctantly, that he wanted Hermione. In his mind, his jealousy had taken root in his subconscious, and he now saw winning Miss Granger's affections as a competition between himself and Harry. He felt it was his due, a chance to escape Harry's shadow.

Albus had greeted such news with a sense of relief. He needed Harry to wed Miss Weasley, or everything would be for nought, and as Ronald had admitted that he'd already kind of implied to Harry that he wanted Hermione, he knew that the noble streak in Harry that he'd help foster would mean that he would step aside and allow his best mate the chance to win the young lady's heart. As insurance, a regime of potions and subtle charms was drawn up; all to ensure that any romantic feelings the two shared were redirected in the appropriate directions. It was fortunate that Molly had taken over all food preparation at Grimmauld Place; it made it so much easier to ensure the potions were in their food. They could do nothing about the food at Hogwarts, but treats from Molly and Serverus' help during those Occlumency lessons would ensure that things would work out.

And yet, they hadn't. Molly had been full of fire when she'd floo'd to tell him what her two youngest had told her about the last week of term... about how Harry had rejected Miss Weasley, going so far to say that he'd never marry her. The attraction between Harry and Miss Granger seemed stronger than ever. And the friendship between Harry and Ronald seemed to have collapsed, while Miss Granger was violently aggressive towards Ronald.

But now Harry was at his relatives home, despite the objections of several of his Order Members that he had listened to, and dismissed. Dumbledore glanced at the devices that monitored Harry and the wards at Privett Drive. Only a couple worked anymore; Harry's unreasonable temper tantrum after returning from the Ministry had ruined most of them. All he could tell from them now was that Harry was alive and well, and that the blood based wards he'd placed were still standing. Petunia had to be taking good care of him. No sister of Lily could ever be hurtful, after all. He knew this, thus it was true.

He'd leave Harry at Privet Drive for a bit, likely until his birthday, and tell his Order Members to keep away. That would keep him away from the reading of Sirius's will; there was no need for him to know about it, and be tempted into rash spending on frivolous things. When he collected him, he'd hoped the proper respect and awe he was due was restored by his period of isolation and reflection. If not, then it would have to be instilled into young Harry, even if it required Charms. The potions would have to be delivered in larger doses too, to focus his attentions on the right witch. And Miss Granger's interests forcibly altered to be pointed towards Ronald, by whatever means it took to do so… even including total brain reconfiguration, although Dumbledore felt himself feeling sick at the idea.

It was all for The Greater Good of the Magical World.

He had to believe that.

It was all he had left.

* * *

**AN:** There you go. I hope now that you can all understand 'Why' Dumbledore has not been tossed into Azkaban already, as well as this interpretation of him. Yes, he's a manipulative old bastard, but he's not an **Evil** manipulative old bastard. For his wisdom and experience, he's still naive, an idealist. He's also old, going senile and has some serious 'Control Freak' issues. Add in that he now believes his own legend, and you've got a bad combination. He also lives by the following:

'The Needs of the Many Outweigh the Needs of the Few or the One'

'Some must be Sacrificed so that All may be Saved'

'Knowledge is Power, Hide it Well'

'The Ends Justify the Means'

There will be more in regard to Molly, Ron and Ginny later. We'll find out as the characters do. Again, don't assume that they doing things just because they are Evil. Things are much, much more complicated than that...

Oh, and that last paragraph? That's my latest explanation for the extreme personality changes that overcame Harry and Hermione between books 5 & 6... ;)


	12. Looking Ahead

**A/N:** Well, My beta hasn't gotten back to me with this chapter, but I'll post it anyway, and update it when he does... despite the generally negative reaction to the last chapter.

I guess I'm just not good at putting my thoughts across.

I never said Dumbledore was 'Good'. Just that he's not 'Evil', ie act for his own gain. We've enough of that kind of story already.

He will be brought to account, have no fear... we just, as Captain Jack Sparrow would say, have to 'wait for the oppertune moment.'

Now, lets move on from the old navie fool.

We start to form the Harem here. It's going to be slow, but mostly done by the end of summer. Things that last take time to build, after all.

* * *

The next morning all four teens awoke in time to see the elder Grangers off. None of them shared the discomfort they had felt the night before, of feeling alone. Emma noted though that Harry's face was more strained than it had been the night before, signs of a troubled sleep.

She also noted that the clothes he was wearing were the same as the previous day... and the day before, come to that. While she knew that male teenagers were not as fussy about clothing as girls, the state of Harry's clothing raised some serious questions in her mind... questions she shared with Nathan on the drive to their practice.

Harry tried to ignore it, but he couldn't help but notice the three witches figures... and the amount of exposed skin. All three were wearing summer clothing. He was pretty sure his jaw had dropped when they came down.

Hermione was wearing a T-shirt that he suspected was a year old given how it looked tight around her arms and over her chest. He tried, he really tried, but he was finding almost impossible not to look at her breasts constrained by the pale blue material... and apparently nothing else. She'd caught him early on, but had just smiled, blushed a little and winked at him, even as two points formed on those perfect mounds.

Looking elsewhere didn't help, as the shorts she had on were very short, barely mid-thigh. With only a pair of sandals on the result was that almost the whole length of her legs were bare, and they were very shapely indeed. He had vague memories of those silky smooth legs sliding against his own rougher ones...

The others were just as bad. Daphne had a knee length skirt that was most certainly not the thickness of Hogwarts uniforms, with a light summery top whose deep neckline revealed an enticingly generous amount of cleavage. Her straw blond hair caught the light, giving her a halo effect.

Susan wasn't as blatant as the other two, but her light yellow summer dress hugged her frame very well. Her generous bust filled the top of the sleeveless dress, and the thin shoulder straps were unaccompanied by bra straps. Her red hair shone in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. And while the neckline was not as low as Daphne's, it was not tight to her, so when she lent forwards Harry got an eyeful. He'd quickly moved to place the counter between them and himself, hoping that none of them guessed his reasons.

What Harry didn't know was that the three of them had conferred and conspired together while getting dressed earlier...

* * *

_...Earlier that morning..._

"So Hermione... you've finally got him."

Hermione's face flushed at Susan's words, even as a broad smile spread across her face. "I suppose I did..." She said softly, still sat on her bed. When she felt a hand on her shoulder however, her eyes followed the arm up to Daphne's face.

"I appreciate what you said yesterday morning." She said softly. "That you won't let him exclude us. That we'd still be friends." There was a glimmer of a tear in her eye.

Hermione understood what Daphne was saying. It had not been spoken aloud, but all three had been concerned and worried that when they each started dating a boy they would drift apart, until they barely recognised each other.

Susan nodded, her expression turning despondent. "In a way, I envy you Hermione. You've got the best of all the boys in school. I... I fear that I'll spend the rest of my life searching for someone just as good as him... when the only one even half as nice is Neville..." She sighed expressively as Daphne nodded in agreement.

"The boys in Slytherin... well, I would say being with most of them is no better than being bred by a farm animal, except that would be an insult to the farm animals."

Hermione looked between the two of them, her heart torn. She understood the pain they were feeling. When Harry had been with Cho Chang after Christmas, it had felt like a dagger piercing her heart. She mentally assessed all the other boys in their year and the years above and below, and quickly reached the same conclusion as Susan; Neville was the only one even approaching Harry.

A stray thought entered her mind, and she batted it away. But it came back, demanding attention. Slowly she examined it, turning the idea over in her mind. On the surface it was preposterous, immoral, and just Not Done. But... there was an appeal to it...

Standing up, she moved to the door and quickly looked out. The whine of the shower pump going pinpointed Harry's location. Quickly shutting the door, she turned to face the other two but then hesitated, biting her lower lip as she looked between the two of them.

"What is it Hermione?" Daphne asked softly, concerned at her actions.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione put forward her idea softly, quietly.

"What if... we... _share_ Harry?"

Both girls' eyes widened as they looked at her. "Wh... what are you suggesting?" Susan stuttered.

Hermione began speaking softly. "It took all three of us to lift that curse on him. And the other night, it took all of us to comfort him, to get him to let go. He's never done that before. I've always felt that he's been holding things back, even from me. Maybe... just maybe, with all three of us, he can unload everything, if necessary different bits to each of us.

"And besides, the task he faces is so massive, I'm not sure that I alone can help him overcome it. He's... we're, going to need allies we can trust implicitly. Right now, that list is very short. And the more of us in our 'inner circle' as it were, the more eyes and mind and hands we have.

"I know that I can sometimes be..." She trailed off, clearly thinking.

"Domineering? Pushy? Mother-hen like?" Daphne suggested, her lips quirking into a smile as an eyebrow rose. Susan chortled behind her hand, eyes dancing.

Hermione scowled, but continued. "Okay, yes. But both of you and Harry helped me learn to curb those tendencies, but..." She seemed to fold in on herself. "I was beginning to worry that Harry only saw me as some sort of big sister or mother figure."

All the laughter in Daphne's and Susan's expressions faded.

"Harry has missed _so much_..." a tear escaped from Hermione's eye to run down her cheek. "...And has suffered so much, that I'd do anything to help him. _Anything_." She looked up. "Even share him with another woman... or two." Her serious expression was ruined when she blushed. "I have to admit the idea _does_ appeal... And Harry appears to already be subconsciously thinking along these lines, making it easier to suggest..."

Daphne's eyebrow rose. "His dream yesterday?" Hermione nodded in reply.

Susan's brow was furrowed in thought. "It would certainly make things easier for me..." She muttered, before looking up into Hermione's enquiring eyes. "I stand by what I said; there isn't a boy in Hogwarts even half as good as Harry, and..." She blushed. "I... I love him too."

"And we're three for three." Daphne murmured, her cheeks pink.

A smile slowly spreading across her face, Hermione held out her hand, her fingers curled slightly. Smiles forming on their faces, the others copied her action, and quickly their hands were linked together, hooked together by their overlapping fingers. Hermione had seen this three-way shake on her father's favourite TV show, one that she too had grown to love for its noble heroes, beautiful yet smart women, and its optimistic, hopeful outlook. She showed it to the others, and they had adopted it as their own 'secret' handshake.

"One for all..." Hermione began.

"...And all for one." Susan finished giggling.

Daphne grinned. Although she didn't recognise the obvious quote, she understood the sentiment. Then her grin turn mischievous.

"Now, as we're here all alone with him, should we dress to impress?"

The other two's smiles widened as they caught her meaning.

* * *

As they sat around the table eating their breakfast, Hermione's face was crinkled into a frown. "What are you thinking so seriously about Hermione?" Susan asked.

Hermione looked up sharply, then sighed. "I was thinking about what Harry said about his relatives breakfast yesterday. They have the same things, and amount, every day?"

Harry nodded. "Pretty much. There was an attempt at a diet last summer, but both Dudley and Vernon raided the fridge often."

Hermione's frown, if anything, got deeper. "The amount they must go through in just a week... how can they afford it?"

Harry opened his mouth to tell her about his uncles job... but then closed it, his brow furrowed. "They... can't. Not on Uncle Vernon's salary. Not with everything else..."

"What do you mean? What does your uncle do?"

"He's a plant manager with Grunnings, making drill bits. Don't know what kind though. But it's not just the food expense to consider. Uncle Vernon gets a new car every six months, and the pair of them lavish gifts on Dudley like he's the second coming or something. Twenty-eight for his eleventh alone. He made a fuss when he counted only twenty-six, when he got twenty-seven the previous year."

Hermione looked thunderstruck. "Harry... there is no way that a Factory Manager could afford all of that, not without another source of income."

"But where from?" Susan asked.

Daphne however was frowning. "Something's doesn't smell right about this..."

The others all agreed with her, but at that moment they had no clues to where to look for answers. Harry had learned his lesson: you need all the information before you could form a proper conclusion.

Tidying away the bowls, they moved into the dinning room as a group, bringing with them their Charms books and parchment. Settling down, they set to work on Flitwicks essay. Both magic-raised girls marvelled once more at the fountain pens Hermione had loaned them. No need to constantly re-ink a quill! No jar of ink lying around, in danger of being knocked over or drying up. Hermione had explained that she'd considered using ball points that first summer, but she'd decided against the more modern and reliable pens due to the difference in the final appearance; she had feared that the professors would not have accepted her work if it hadn't been ink. That confession had prompted a small laugh from the other three before they set to work.

Knocking on the front door a couple of hours later caused all four teens to look up. Shrugging, Hermione stood up slowly before making her way out into the hall. She was still feeling a little tender from her curse wound, not to mention her inner muscles were still sore from the... exertions, needed to cure Harry. Opening the door part way, she looked out to see a tall, red-haired young man wearing a business suit. "Bill?"

The eldest Weasley child smiled lightly. "Hello Hermione. Good to see that you remember me." His eyes flickered over her for an instant, widening slightly, before returning to her face.

Hermione however did not smile back. "Is this about Ron and Ginny?"

Bill frowned. "Huh? What happened?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

Bill shrugged. "I've been busy. Gringott's has me working a lot." He sighed. "That's why I'm here actually. It's about Harry."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, then she opened the door fully, allowing the young man entry.

Once she had closed the door, Hermione led him through to the dinning room. Bill froze when he saw Harry, Susan & Daphne sat at the table, schoolbooks scattered before them. All three were looking at him guardedly. It was clear on his face that he had not expected to see any of them.

Hermione walked round to stand beside Harry. "So Bill... what business do you have with Harry?" She said her tone clearly defensive. That and her hand resting on Harry's shoulder snapped Bill back to the present.

"Well... It's about Sirius' will."

There was a sharp intake of breath around the room, and three sets of concerned eyes snapped to Harry, who had stiffened at Bill's words. Hermione's hand slid across his shoulders to grasp the other side before she pulled him into her gently, while Susan reached out and laid a hand over his on the table. Bill remained silent.

After several long deep breaths, Harry looked up again. "Well?" The pain and loss were still clear in his eyes.

Bill hesitated. "May I sit? This is a bit of a long story." After a consenting nod, he sat and rested his arms on the table, mentally ordering his information. He glanced at the other two girls.

"I trust them Bill. Now... talk." Harry cut in before he could say anything. Bill nodded then began.

"Harry... just after Christmas last year Sirius contacted Gringotts, about putting together his will. Now understand, Gringotts takes banking and wills very seriously. The wizards ceded those responsibilities after the last war, as a means to prevent another one. That's why Gringotts is considered 'Goblin' land. The Ministries laws don't apply there.

"Well, Sirius arranged to spend a day there, setting out his will and making arrangements. It seemed that he had his doubts that the primary beneficiaries – you two, Harry, Hermione – would be contacted. He explained that it was not Gringotts that he doubted... rather it was your legal, magical guardian. Tell me, have you received anything from Gringotts at all since his death? Or you Hermione?" At both shakes of the head, he sighed once more. "Looks like he was right."

Harry's eyes narrowed to green slits, a frown creasing his brow. Who could possibly be his and Hermione's magical guardian? Yet would have cause to deny both him and Hermione anything Sirius left them... One name quickly stepped forward. "Dumbledore?" He asked quietly.

Bill nodded.

A growl from Hermione shattered the silence that had fallen. "That's it. Next time I see him, I'm strangling him with his own beard. Then I'll..."

"Easy Hermione..." Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her, cutting her off mid rant. After a few moments to allow her to get herself back under control, Harry refocused his attention on Bill. "I take it you're here to enact Sirius' plans?"

Bill nodded, still slightly awed at the venom in Hermione's words. "Yes. He figured that contacting you direct would be almost impossible. But he reckoned that reaching Miss Granger would be easy. He authorised her to be able to accept anything left to you on your behalf, to hold in trust until you can accept them yourself."

Harry sighed. "Dumbledore's not going to allow that."

"He won't have a chance." Bill's enigmatic smile perked their interest. "The Will reading is set for Friday the 19th, but Sirius arranged for a first stage reading, for the primary beneficiaries, on the preceding Friday. You two, Remus and Tonks are the only one's who will be required to attend, all the others will only know of the official reading. You may invite those you trust completely, but the fewer who know, the better."

Daphne was looking at Bill with narrowed eyes now. "I have to ask; why are you here telling us this? I mean you in particular. Surely you have a conflict of interest here... you _are_ in Dumbledore's order, after all."

Bill squirmed in his seat slightly, but not as much as the four of them had expected. "You told them both Harry?" At his nod, Bill sighed. "In answer to your question... yes, I am a part of the Order, but my oaths and loyalties to Gringotts supersede any to Dumbledore. This is Gringotts business, thus the Order has no bearing here." He hesitated, then pushed on, almost rushing his words. "I'm not blind Harry. I've seen what's been going on, though I don't claim to even know half of it. It was clear that Dumbledore had you isolated last summer, even though most of us disagreed..."

"Clearly not enough..." Harry muttered. "None of you spoke up in my support. Only Sirius..." He choked on the name.

Bill hung his head. "I know. Fleur's been giving me grief about that."

Harry's eyes widened, before a small smile formed on his face. "You and Fleur huh?"

Bill half grinned. "Yeah." His voice lacked some conviction though.

The girls all smiled lightly, remembering how the Beauxbatons champion had been like during the previous year. Or more exactly, how the majority of the boys had drooled and been totally sappy around her. Hermione accepted that the part-veela might not be able to control her allure, but it still stung.

"I know what you're thinking," Bill said looking at the three of them. "But I'm not a drooling idiot around her. She's not interested in that kind of person." He looked uncomfortable for a moment, as if he were considering adding something, but stayed silent.

Nodding to accept the answer for what it was, Hermione looked closely at him. "Is there anything else?"

Bill shook his head. "No. Just remember; 11am, Gringotts, Friday the 12th. Ask for Goldbag; he's in charge of all inheritance proceedings." With that he stood, but paused looking at Harry once more. "Harry... I'm sorry about Sirius... about everything. For what it's worth, I'm with you."

Harry nodded, too choked up to speak. Bill nodded back then left the room. It was only after they heard the front door close that they felt free to speak.

"You okay Harry?" Hermione asked, sinking down into the chair next to him, eyes fixed on his face.

Harry breathed deeply before answering. "Not really." He said quietly. "It's just... he's really gone." He looked up at her, then at Susan and Daphne. "I mean... I didn't know him very well... barely had a chance..." A little anger entered his tone, and the three of them knew where it was directed.

After a few minutes Harry's breathing eased and the tension left his frame. He looked between the three of them, a small smile of his face. The three smiled in reply, before they all returned to their work.

All through lunch it was clear that Harry was thinking deeply about something. Emma, picking up on this and that he clearly was not in the mood to be disturbed, turned to her daughter to explain. Hermione told her about Bill's visit, and what it entailed.

"Well, at least it's not this Friday." Emma commented before looking again at Harry. Her eyes were narrowed ever so slightly.

"What is it mum?"

Emma sighed before looking at her daughter. "It's Harry... or rather, his clothes. Doesn't he have anything decent to wear?"

Hermione slumped her shoulders. "No. Only his school clothes actually fit. From what little he's said, everything he has from before Hogwarts are cast offs and the rejections of his cousin." Seeing the troubled look in her mother's eyes, Hermione became concerned. "Mum?"

Glancing back at Harry, Emma guided her daughter into the study. Once there she sat down, gesturing for her daughter to do the same. Worry creased Hermione's face as she did.

"Honey... your father and I am concerned about Harry." She paused for a moment, steeling herself. "We think he's been abused by his relatives."

Hermione nodded slowly, surprising her mother. "Yeah... I've figured that out myself."

"How bad, do you think?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I think, mainly, emotional and psychological. Some physical, but not since he started at Hogwarts. But he's definitely been treated horribly by his aunt and uncle."

Emma nodded, impressed with her daughter. "That's what we were thinking too, from the little we've seen of him."

Hermione looked up at her. "So what are we going to do?"

"For the moment, ease him in and make him comfortable with us. All of us." Emma started. "But later on... we have to tell the police. It'll be hard; most abused children don't report it till their much older, if ever. But those... people, should pay for what they did." Hermione was amazed at the passion in her mother's voice, the level of anger.

"Mum... we talked a little this morning and yesterday. There's something very wrong in that house." Hermione relayed the revelations about Harry's relatives eating habits. To say Emma Granger was stunned was an understatement.

"They can somehow afford that much food, yet won't spend a penny to put clothes on his back..."

Hermione growled low in her throat. "To hear Harry tell it, his Uncle would not even throw him his cousins cast offs if he could."

"Another form of abuse..." Emma muttered quietly. Visibly shaking herself, she looked Hermione in the eye. "You planned anything for tomorrow after lunch?"

Hermione frowned, a little thrown off by the sudden change in subject. "No, why?"

Emma smiled lightly. "Because I think it's time for Harry to get some new clothes of his own. We can make it a group thing with your other two friends, so that he won't think it's purely for him."

Beaming Hermione hugged her mum. "That's a brilliant idea! I know I need a few new things myself..."

"I can tell." Emma's gaze drifted down to Hermione's T-shirt, prompting a blush from her.

"Yes, well... not just me. The others are going to need some things too."

"Sure..." She looked at her daughter intently. "Just what are you three up to?" She'd noticed the apparel of all three young women.

Hermione looked back, the conflict clear in her eyes. She was bursting to tell her mother about her and Harry's new relationship... But how to explain what she had agreed with Susan and Daphne this morning? It was supposed to be man and wife, not man and wives.

"Well... Harry's now my... boyfriend." She said softly.

Emma snorted. "Thought he was already."

Hermione's blush intensified. "Not helping!" After a moment to compose herself, she continued in a prim and firm manner.

"Myself and Harry have decided to take our platonic friendship up to a romantic level." She held that pose for a couple of seconds, nose slightly upturned, before they both broke out into laughter.

Emma smiled warmly at her daughter. "He makes you happy?"

Hermione's smile just widened. "Oh yes..."

"Too much information there dear." Emma giggled at the look on her face before calming. "And what about Susan and Daphne?" In the back of her mind she was thinking about what Hermione had told her about their, 'unorthodox', cure for Harry.

Hermione's face stilled, the laughter dying away. "We're all going to... be close friends."

Emma frowned lightly, softened by a small smile. "How close."

Hermione's face was almost beet red. "Very."

Emma nodded, working out what she really meant. "And is Harry okay with this?"

"Well... I haven't actually suggested this to him yet... but I can't see him disagreeing to badly."

Emma smiled more widely. No, neither could she.

* * *

After Mrs Granger had returned to work, the four teens sat outside once more. Picking up from where they left off, they launched in the story of Fourth Year, starting with the Quidditch World Cup. Both Susan and Daphne had been there themselves, and shared their own experiences of the event. Neither had been camping though: they had been there just for the event. Both found Couch's dismissal of Winky to be suspect.

Harry shared the first dream-vision he'd had that summer, including all the details he'd learned since. Susan had gasped at the end, when Frank Bryce was killed simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The run up to the Tri-Wizard was skimmed over, as not much happened in that period. But that was more than made up for with the events of Halloween. He related to them the events that took place in the antechamber where the champions had been assembled, quoting Dumbledore, Couch and the supposed Moody.

At this point Daphne and Susan apologised to Harry; Susan for not being more vocal regarding her suspicions regarding his unwilling entry, a view which a few others in her house, including both Cedric and her close friend Hannah, shared. At the time, Susan was unconvinced that Harry would cheat his way in.

Daphne was sorry that she'd worn one of those 'Potter Stinks!' badges; it had been a concession on her part to avoid a gang rape by Malfoy and his buddies. Harry had wrapped an arm around her and hugged her close, saying that it was not her fault to be forced into such a horrid position. He trailed off however when Daphne's other arm snaked across his chest to rest on his other shoulder, and she tucked her head into the crook of his neck, muttering that she liked _this_ position. Harry had looked in shock and worry towards Hermione, but she had only grinned back, her eyes dancing. At the questioning look in his eyes, she mouthed '_later'_.

Harry didn't dwell on the tasks themselves, only providing the bits that the others hadn't witnessed. Tears were in the eyes of all of them when he told them about how the ghost like forms of his parents had emerged from Voldemort's wand, though Harry frowned a bit as a detail he hadn't noticed before came to mind.

His father, Cedric and the old Muggle Frank Bryce were all fairly detailed, almost perfectly formed, if ghost like. His mother however, had been indistinct, more insubstantial. Did that mean anything? Harry didn't know.

Then came the year just gone, the hardest yet. Harry spoke of the loneliness, the isolation, of the weeks before. Hermione begged forgiveness for her unquestioning submission to the Headmasters ruling. Harry waved her apology off, holding her close. Then there was the Dememtor attack, and the trial, where he got his first introduction to Delores Umbridge. Both Susan and Daphne had scowled at the mention of her.

Thanks to her membership in the DA, Susan already knew some of the details regarding the group, and she remembered clearly that first 'Defence' lesson. However, she did not know all the back story, and so she too learned about how Harry had been tortured by Umbridge. The look on her face clued the others into the fact that there would another letter heading to her aunt as soon as her owl returned, made a certainty when she saw the scars on the back of his hand.

Harry didn't mention his failed relationship with Cho, and Hermione didn't bring it up either. Both Susan and Daphne noted the omission, but didn't call on it; they knew it was a sore point for them. They all knew that that was in the past; what concerned them was the future.

The dream-vision of Arthur's attack at Christmas brought in the dream-visions Harry had been suffering, and led to the 'remedial potions' with Snape. Daphne told them how Draco had been really using that as a source of amusement, but looking back she wondered if he had known the real reason. Harry had just grunted, before he told them all in a quiet voice what Snape had done.

It was Daphne's turn to hit the roof.

"That BARSTARD!" She snarled, eyes narrowed to furious blue slits. "A full out attack like that just destroys whatever is in the way! All he did was make you even more open to assault!"

"I did wonder..." Harry muttered.

Hermione then confirmed that she'd looked through the entire library, and not one book had contained even a mention of Occlumency.

"Wonder if Dumbledore had them removed before term started..." Susan mused. The looks the others gave her indicated that they were thinking along the same troubling lines.

Harry fell silent a few minutes later. Hermione paused when she noted his silence, concern written all over her face. Feeling their eyes on him, Harry looked up to three concerned, supportive gazes.

"I'm sorry... but... I can't talk about..."

Hermione laid a hand over his. "It's okay Harry, we understand." Both Susan and Daphne seconded her, then all three wrapped him up in another group hug. They stayed like that until Hermione's parents returned.

* * *

Hermione was just climbing into bed when there was a tap on her door. "Yes?"

"It's me." Harry's voice came through the door. "Can we talk for a moment?"

Hermione blushed for a moment before hurriedly pulling her dressing gown on over her T-shirt. "Sure. Come in."

Harry stepped through, leaving the door ajar behind him. His eyes ran over his best friend, sat on the corner of her bed looking at him. He was struck at how pretty she was.

"What is it Harry?" She asked softly, drawing him out of his contemplation.

Steeling himself, Harry sat down on the bed besides her, hands clasped together between his knees. Taking a moment longer, he lifted his gaze to meet her eyes.

"Hermione... earlier you didn't chase Daphne away when she hugged me." The confusion in his voice was clear. "Why?"

Hermione was silent for a few moments, organising her thoughts.

"Harry... You have such a task ahead of you, you are going to need help. No, you are." She continued when he made to interrupt. "You can not do this all by yourself, no matter how much you wish to. You will need people watching your back.

"As well as all that, you also deserve so much. I... would do anything to make you happy." A faint blush tinged her cheeks, and Harry felt his own heat up.

"Harry... we talked a little this morning. The three of – me, Susan and Daphne – we are good friends, but we all feared the same thing." When Harry looked at her in confusion, Hermione lowered her eyes as she answered.

"That we'd drift apart, or worse, because of boys." When she looked up again Harry had a nonplussed expression on his face, so she tried to explain.

"We each feared that as we each got boyfriends, we'd stop seeing each other and just... loose touch. Or we'd have a falling out over the same boy." Harry's eyes lit up in understanding, but then a frown creased his forehead.

"Okay, I get that... but what about me?"

Hermione smiled at that question, asked honestly and plainly, not petulantly as he could have. "Their opinion of most of the other boys in Hogwarts close enough to date are... less that complimentarily. You've set a very high mark Harry... without even trying. Neville's the only one who gets close. And you saw how he and Hannah were."

A grin formed on Harry's face as he thought back to the train ride. There had definitely been sparks between his dorm-mate and the quiet but pretty blond Hufflepuff. Neville had come along in leaps and bounds since first year.

Hermione hesitated, trying to think of a way to explain what she and the other two had decided. Harry looked at her warmly, encouraging her to speak.

"Remember what I said just now Harry, about willing to do anything to make you happy?" At his nod, she pushed on. "Well... I also want both Susan and Daphne to be happy, so... I agreed to... share you, with them. If you're willing to, that is."

Harry's jaw dropped. "_Sh...Share?_ How do you mean?"

"Remember what you said yesterday, about wanting the closeness between the four of us to remain?"

"Yeah... but..."

"I know, you were only thinking about close friendship then Harry, one of trust and understanding. But... what about a romantic relationship? Your dream the other night could become reality. Or at least." She amended, blushing as she recalled all the details of that dream. "As real as we can make it. All three of us have fallen for you Harry."

Harry's eyes were now wide and round. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? He knew that for many boys, what Hermione was talking about was wet dream material. But was it really fair for him to accept?

The words of his godfather from the dream came. _"You've got three stunning, intelligent women who love you deeply. After all the shit you've had to put up with, you can be selfish for once in your life."_

He looked at her closely. "Are you really okay with this?"

Hermione thought for a moment, her head tipped slightly to one side as she nibbled on her bottom lip. "Honestly... if it would be with almost anyone else I would not be happy. With Susan and Daphne however..." She half smiled. "Yes, I'm okay with this."

Harry smiled tentatively. "Then we'll see how it goes, okay?"

Hermione smiled widely before leaning in and kissing him softly.

After a few moments Harry looked at her with a playful look. "Anyone else besides Susan and Daphne you'd be comfortable with?" He asked playfully.

Hermione flushed red before swatting him on the arm gently, grinning all the while. "Prat." Then her face took on a thoughtful look.

"Ah! There is someone else!"

Her face nearly tomato red, Hermione answered him. "Well... I did get to know Fleur well while we were at Grimmauld..."

"Best not let Bill know about what we're talking about."

Hermione blushed. "Sweet dreams Harry." She said softly, before kissing him gently. A broad smile formed on his face.

"Now I know I will." He told her as he got up and headed back to his room.


	13. The Girls are Back in Town

A/N: First off, welcome back. Second, Beta's done a dissappearing act once more, so no beta again. Anyone up to do it instead, PM me.

* * *

Harry watched all three girls closely the next morning. They were all excited about something, and their excitement was only getting stronger as the morning went on. Even Hermione was visibly excited, breaking out into short bursts of giggles. This had him worried: Hermione _never _giggled like this before.

They finished their Charms work before eleven. Another thing that worried Harry was that Hermione didn't push for them to start on the next bit of work, but instead suggested they head upstairs for bit. When he saw all three of them go into her room with cheeky smiles on their faces however, he grew very worried indeed.

'_Surely she's not up to something... right?' _He wondered as he stepped into the study, now his bedroom while he stayed here. Despite having to share the space, Harry felt far more welcome at the Grangers than he ever had at the Dursleys, or even the Burrow. Seeing that Hedwig was awake, he smiled as he walked over to her. "Much nicer here than Privett, right?"

His owl snapped her beak at him, clearly agreeing. As he gently stroked the back of her head, he thought about how she had the freedom to fly here, not be cooped up like she would at Privett Drive.

Thinking about her flying reminded Harry of his other friends, those not staying here. Deciding to use the time he had free, he pulled out a few sheets of parchment and a pen.

_Neville,_

_How are things going with you? Your gran okay about your wand? Things have been very nice here with Hermione and her family. Not to mention Susan and Daphne. I can see how they became friends with Hermione. They both are good people._

Harry considered for a moment asking if Neville had heard from Hannah, since the two of them appeared to be getting along very well on the train, but decided not pry. It was Neville's business, to share if he chose to.

Harry wrote for a couple minutes more, asking about Neville's holiday plans, as well as thanking him for risking his life at the Department of Mysteries. He apologised for leading him into the trap. Thinking ahead, Harry enquired if Neville would step up and help him run the DA again next year. Although unspoken nor written, it was clear that Ron was no longer part of the group.

Smiling now, Harry decided to share his new closeness with Hermione.

_Just to let you know Hermione and I are now a couple. We had a talk the other morning, and have decided to see if we can take things further. _He paused, considering, before writing again with some trepidation. _I'm not sure what she meant by it, but Hermione talked about our relationship including Daphne and Susan as well. Please keep this to yourself, as you know what the rest of the school would think. Can you picture Ron's reaction?_

_Once again, thanks for being such a good friend Neville._

_Harry_

Looking up as he rolled up the parchment, he saw Hedwig's eyes were fixed on the letter, as if she'd been watching him write. "Hey girl, fancy a flight?" He asked softly.

Hedwig answered with a positive shuffling-bark, prompt a smile to form on Harry's face. After attaching the letter to her leg, he looked her in the eye. "That's for Neville Hedwig. I don't know if he has access to owls himself, so could you stay there for a reply?"

Another positive shuffling noise, and Hedwig launched herself out the window. Harry watched her wing into the distance.

"Harry!"

Susan's panicked voice snapped his gaze round to see her stood in the doorway, eyes slightly wide.

"What is it?"

"It's Hermione. She just got a letter..."

In an instant Harry moved quickly forwards, moving past Susan towards Hermione's bedroom. Even from across the hall he could hear her muttering curses and insults... as well as the rapid fluttering of wings...

He paused as he stepped into her room, shaking his head at the sight. Hermione was pacing, a scowl set on her face. Daphne appeared to have crawled half up the bed, her back to the headboard.

And flying around like some overgrown snitch was Pigewigeon, Ron's hyperactive Scoops Owl.

Harry's groan appeared to have cut through Hermione's anger, as she paused and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. In reply he gestured to the still circling owl. "Ron being himself again?"

For a moment it looked like Hermione would resume her rant, but then she just seemed to fold in on herself and sat on the end of the bed. Wordlessly she passed a letter to him.

_Hey Hermry,_

_Whats up with Harry? The gits acting weird, hanging with snakes and duffers, even if they are lookers. Must be using his fame to get the girls. Were going to have to rein him in. Cant have him go all dark on us, which if he starts haging around those snakes he will. __Gin__ Mum'll keep him __in li__ on the straight and narrow._

_When you coming round here? We can have loads of fun __sh__. You must be eager to get away from those dreadfully dull muggles, back into our world. We shouldn't mix with them, you know? Their too stupid to understand. You really ought to spend the summer with __m__ us all the time. Youre not gonig to need much; mumll fix every thing. She also made you the cakes. They brillent! You must have them! See yu very soon_

_Ron_

Harry looked up at Hermione, then to the small basket that was resting on the other side of the bed. The cover was still intact. He looked back at her, concern clear in his eyes. "You think..." he began, trailing off.

"I don't want to..." Hermione said quietly. "...But I do. She's been hinting that we should get together ever since the end of Third year. Same with you and Ginny. Remember what she did at... Headquarters?"

Harry nodded, thinking back to all the cleaning tasks Mrs Weasley had foisted onto them, to keep them away while the Order met. She had paired them as such, or as a group. Never had he been set on a task with Hermione alone.

"So what set you off?"

Hermione scowled. "The way he spoke about my parents. 'Too stupid to understand'? 'Dreadfully dull'? He hasn't even _met_ them! How can he..."

"It's Ron. That's enough." Harry cut her off gently.

Hermione stopped, before relaxing with a sigh.

Harry looked again at the letter, noting the crossings out. Just what had Ron been thinking when he wrote this? At a gesture from Daphne, he passed the letter to her after Hermione nodded. Susan leaned in to read it with the blonde. After a couple of minutes, in which both girls has visibly tensed, Daphne lowered the letter looking thoughtful. Over at the desk Hermione was just finishing off a letter in reply. As she folded it up she glanced at the still flying owl. "Harry..." She began.

"Sorry, I just sent a letter to Neville." Harry apologised, his eyes fixed on the tiny swooping owl.

"That's okay." Hermione replied before holding the letter she'd just written up. "Pig?" she called hopefully, trying to entice the little owl down.

Pig either didn't hear or didn't care, as he continued to flap around, blissfully ignorant of Hermione's increasingly frustrated attempts. Finally Harry jumped up and grabbed the owl mid-flight, his hand coming down over Pigs' back and pinning his wings to his side. A little shocked at how well he'd done, Harry brought Pig over to Hermione, who was looking at him with a mixture of awe and desire.

"Here, I'll hold him." Harry told her, using his free hand to hold Pigs' frantically kicking legs still. The little owl didn't appear distressed in any way, just incapable of holding still. Once she'd attached the letter and the shrunken, unopened pack of cakes to his leg Hermione bent over the little owl, using her hand to hold his head so she could look into his eyes.

"Go to Ron. Back to Ronald Weasley."

Pig emitted one high-pitched screech, before Harry stepped to the window and let go. Screeching once more, the tiny owl rocketed off, nearly crashing into a tree in his excitement. Shaking his head at the owl, Harry turned back to meet Hermione's gaze. She was looking at him with desire in her eyes again.

"Thank you Harry. I really struggle with that owl." She said softly before stepping closer and leaning in. Harry responded almost by automatic, his head tilting slightly so that their lips met. As the kiss deepened Harry wrapped his arms around her slighter body, drawing Hermione in closer. He felt her tongue brush against his lips, and his mouth opened in reflex. He could feel her clinging to him, her arms around his shoulders holding her up. She seemed to be trying to mould herself to him, if the way she pressing herself against him was anything to go by. Most of his higher brain functions had ceased the instant she'd pressed her lips against his, and he had no complaints at all. It wasn't their first kiss in the last couple of days, but it was the most intense.

On the bed Daphne watched the two of them with a warm smile on her face, a small part of her wishing that Harry was kissing her in the same way. A tingling in her lips prompted her to brush her fingertips over them, a slight frown marring her forehead.

Slowly Harry and Hermione drew back, her heels coming to rest on the floor once more from where she'd had to rise a little to make up the half-inch disparity in their heights. After refocusing his eyes, Harry smiled broadly at the slightly dazed, deliriously happy expression on her face. Both her eyes were still closed, but he knew that they had been open her hazel-chocolate eyes would have been sparkling.

Another hand rested on his shoulder. "May I?" Susan's softly spoken, almost plaintive question prompted Hermione to open her eyes to look at the red-head. Stilling smiling, she nodded to the former Hufflepuff, stepping back to allow Harry room to turn to face her. A quick look at Harry's face showed that he was still not quite sure about all of this, but another nod reassured him.

Susan was a very similar height to Hermione, but built in a different way. Broader in the shoulder and hip, with a heavier bust. Harry could feel the heavy fullness of her breasts pressed against him as Susan leaned in for her kiss. He flushed a little, but then their lips touched and he lost most conscious thought. Instead he revealed in the sensations his mind was receiving.

While both their lips were wondrously soft and silky, there were differences between the two of them. Hermione had a taste of cinnamon, of ink and parchment. Susan was more earthen, bark and stone. There was a solidness to her frame that hinted at what kind of person she was.

Right now though Susan appeared to have not a solid bone in her body, as Harry was having to provide all the support to her via his arms around her waist and back. Both her hands were running through his hair, a not unpleasant sensation. He felt her tongue almost force its way – gently – into his mouth, while a leg ran sensuously up the outside of his.

"Minx." Hermione called out from the side, her tone humorous.

"Shush you." Susan answered once she released her lip lock with Harry to wink saucily at her. "You had your turn."

Over her head Harry saw Daphne sat on the edge of the bed, looking a little forlorn. "Speaking of turns..." He said slowly, unwrapping his arms from around Susan before stepping towards the third witch in their group.

Daphne looked up with a little surprise and joy when he stopped before her. Holding out his hand, he gently pulled her to her feet when she placed her hand in it. Sensing her fragility, Harry leaned in slowly, giving her time to adjust, his hands resting gently on her hips, reassuring and supportive.

Daphne was different again to Hermione and Susan. She was fractionally taller than him, with a slender figure that made her seem taller. Her features were more delicate, finer and softer than the other two. Her lips tasted sweeter too, a subtle blend that Harry had not the experience to fully decipher. He held her close, letting her relax into the embrace, trailing a hand slowly up her spine to gently brush the tips of her shoulder length hair. Her own hand was in his hair as well, and she appeared to be almost melting into his arms.

After a few more moments he slowly drew back, to see her smile softly, eyes closed. He smiled at the sight. Daphne, so often in Hogwarts, had a cold scowl or disinterested expression on her face. He had come to learn over the last couple of days that that was a mask, behind which she could protect herself.

He shut down that line of thought: he knew that if he stopped to consider what he knew of the Death Eater Juniors actions, he'd start wondering just how far they go, and his blood would start boiling. But then a thought came to him, prompting a frown to form.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Harry?" she replied, still sounding rather mellow and pleased.

Harry sighed as he turned to sit on the bed besides Daphne: he really didn't want to break the mood. "I just thought of something. That curse Malfoy used on me..." He could see that all three girls stiffened and tensed. "...Why haven't we heard of it before? Or seen it cast before? It's got to be as bad as the Unforgivables, right? I can't see Draco not using it more often."

Hermione sighed as she sank into a chair: she'd been expecting this for a bit. "It's complicated Harry." She started. "It's one of those curses that really has limited use."

Harry's eyebrow rose, but he kept quiet.

"I'm not sure how much you noticed, but Malfoy was very quiet the next couple of days, not doing any magic. The spell drains a considerable amount of power from the caster. I'm surprised Malfoy even could summon enough to cast it..." Hermione nibbled her lip.

"He spent most of the next two days sleeping." Daphne spoke up before turning her head towards Harry. "It's not classed with the Unforgivables because of the usual Wizard double-standards. Some truly nasty wizards with influence like it too much."

"And that's part of the first main flaw with it Harry." Hermione leaned in again. "Anyone of us..." Her hand waved around to include them all. "Could speak the words and wave our wands, but there is a crucial mental element that is needed to actually make it work."

"And that is?" Harry asked with trepidation.

"You have to have the mental mindset of a rapist." Hermione answered him bluntly. "Be someone who would rape someone else on a whim. Most people don't have that kind of brazen disregard for others in them. Murder and torture come a lot easier. It's a lot like the Unforgivables in that way. You have to _want _the target to become a rapist, while at the same time be one yourself."

Harry gulped, nodding slowly. "And the second flaw?"

Hermione smiled, surprising him. "Harry... who is most likely to use a curse like that?"

"Death Eaters." Harry's reply was almost instantaneous.

"Correct. Now, who do they prey on the most?"

Harry frowned, not sure where these questions were going, but trusted her to answer, assuming she had a point to make. "Muggleborns and their families, as well as other muggles."

"Exactly. Now, the curse uses the cursed persons own magic to power it. What if it was cast on a muggle, who has no innate magic?"

Harry's jaw dropped in shock. "It'd have no effect."

"That's it. It needs to be cast on a magical person to take effect. The most a muggle felt was a bit randy for about half an hour. As such, the curse fell out of favour almost two hundred years ago, in favour of other dark curses that did affect muggles."

"Harry, that book has been sat at the back of the Slytherin's private library for who knows how long." Daphne spoke again. "I'm not sure how Malfoy found out about it, because I was the last person to look at it before him."

The other three looked at her sharply.

"What? I used to hide in there to avoid them when they starting getting... frisky. I got bored and started browsing." She shivered. "Though sometimes I wish I hadn't."

Harry's face became one of concern, and he looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. She smiled as her head rested on his shoulder.

Before anything more could be said, the tender moment was broken by the sounds of the front door opening. Harry was quickly up and heading down, to assist with lunch. He'd insisted on at least doing some things for their meals. As he stepped out of the room, Hermione grinned broadly.

"Okay, what's tickled you?" Susan asked good naturedly.

"Harry. Until recently, he's _never _initiated either a hug or a kiss." Both the other two were stunned at this at first, but then saw what Hermione was saying. They too smiled warmly.

* * *

Hermione couldn't help it; she had to laugh at the look on his face. They had just told Harry what they had in store for this afternoon. The others were just as bad. Susan had one hand over her mouth, while Daphne grinned cheekily.

"Now Harry, it's not just for you to get new clothes." Emma said soothingly, throwing a look at her daughter that was a mixture of amusement and disapproval. "I do our weekly shopping on a Wednesday anyway. This is just a chance for you to get some decent clothing aside from your School stuff."

Harry finally regained the power of speech, if only barely. "But... I mean... I can make do... I don't have any suitable money..."

"Harry!" Emma cut him off sharply. "You are staying in our house, and I will not have anyone being forced to dress in rags." Then she continued in a softer, kinder tone. "You deserve better than what you're relatives did to you. And as for money, we'll pay for your purchases, and you'll pay for anything Hermione wants from the magical side? We can work out an exchange rate later."

Harry stood for a moment, absently plucking at a loose thread on his threadbare trousers before nodding slowly, agreeing to the compromise she had suggested. As he moved to head upstairs to change into his neatest clothes Hermione turned to face her mother.

"Why'd you make that deal?"

"Because without it he'd feel like he was taking advantage of us, or accepting charity. Both of which he's not going to be comfortable with, with his upbringing."

Hermione's mouth opened into a 'O' of understanding.

Once they were down the town centre Emma looked at the three of them closely. Hermione had carefully guided both Susan and Daphne into more 'normal' clothes so that they wouldn't stand out. Harry still looked a little rough, but at least his clothes almost fitted and were not patched. "Now then, let's be at it." And with she headed towards the shops, the four teens close behind her.

Both Daphne and Susan mentally compared what they saw with Diagon Alley. The brighter, more vibrant colours and all glass frontages drew the eye, as was the wide range of shops. Despite the crowds, Emma clearly knew where she wanted them to go, and they threaded their way between other shoppers to reach a clothing store.

The next two hours Harry found a trial, but surprisingly enjoyable. All four women worked together to build him a complete wardrobe, from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Shoes, socks, trousers, underpants– Harry blushed mightily as the girls giggled when Emma asked which he preferred – and tops of various types. Shirts, T-shirts, sweat-shirts, polo-shirts, a couple of jumpers... the list seemed endless. Even in the trousers they got a wide range: Shorts, formal, casual, tracksuit... he'd never before considered the range of differences between clothing before. Heck, they even picked out a range of sunglasses and hats for him to chose from.

The only point where he'd been left alone was when they moved to a section containing feminine articles. Harry had been oblivious to the change until Emma had held him back, asking him to wait for a bit. When he'd looked around, he'd found himself surrounded by lacy bras and skimpy knickers. His face turned bright red... but he couldn't help but sneak glances at Hermione, Susan and Daphne as they looked over and examined various bras. When they came to pay at that store Harry couldn't help but look at the pile of lace that they had brought over, all three bright red.

It wasn't just him though. All three needed new clothing to take into account their new figures and growth, as well as clothing suitable for exercise. Daphne and Susan were equally as amazed as he was, though for them it was the ranges of both colour and style. Both had had little contact with the muggle fashion world, and were a little stunned at the options offered. Daphne fell in love with the slinky dresses and knee length boots, while Susan hovered over the dress shirts. Hermione displayed a feminine side that Harry hadn't known of, purchasing a few tight fit jeans and lightweight tops.

The male shop assistants were always eager to assist them, as all three were highly attractive teenaged women. Harry was sure a few of them had done so to sneak looks at them, but he couldn't call them on it. Except once, when the one was clearly ogling Susan's cleavage. A cleared throat and a glare sent the spotty youth backing hastily away. Susan rewarded him with a long kiss afterwards.

When they passed a jewellery store they had paused to window shop. Emma explained that she always paused to see what new small sculptures they had. The slightly comical, amusing dragons prompted a laugh from Harry. He found the one of a dragon wearing a motorcycle jacket riding what looked like a vintage Harley particularly funny.

The girls however were looking at the other, more formal jewellery and necklaces. Both magical raised witches were amazed at the craftsmanship displayed before them. "How do they make these without magic?" Daphne had asked, staring at an intricately woven pendent and necklace.

"Practice. Lots and lots of practice." Had been Hermione's answer. A small frown creased her forehead. "Does the workmanship not affect things on the magical side?"

"Oh, it does." Susan answered. "The more finely made items can be enchanted to a much higher degree – though the exact reason for that is unknown - but most wizards can't work metal very well. That's why goblin made items are so special: they're the only ones who can work metal to the required detail and precision."

Hermione looked once more at the jewellery in the display. "So... how does this compare?"

Daphne had looked at her, awe clear in her eyes. "On a level with the best goblins." She stated with conviction.

Harry, having heard most of the conversation, now stepped in. "So we could get some of this enchanted? How so?"

Daphne nodded, her eyes drifting over the items. "All kinds of enchantments. Protection, detection... it all depends on the quality and the workmanship of both the items and the runes that would need to be etched into them."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Would they work on a muggle?"

"The magic would be in the item. Having a wizard or witch wear one would recharge it over time, but a muggle would have the protection till the magic ran down."

Harry nodded, apparently satisfied. "Okay, each of you get a few things. You too, Mrs Granger, and pick out something for your husband. I'll cover this cost, and the cost of getting them enchanted to the best possible standard." He held his hand up when Hermione started to protest. "No, I will pay. There is no price on you or your families safety."

He got a big hug and kiss from all three after that, while Emma smiled fondly.

In the end, each one picked out two necklaces – one formal, one more casual – with matching earrings, each with their birthstones, a suggestion from Emma, as the centrepiece. Hermione added a silver set Sapphire choker, with two small emeralds bracketing it. Susan flicked between a Ruby pendent with an opal surmounting it, and a finely wrought silver bracelet for a bit before settling for the bracelet. Daphne stared at an elaborate choker, made of vertical shards of Blue Topaz set in gold, but despite the clear longing in her eyes didn't pick it. Harry however noticed her attention, and made a note of the choker. He thought it would look stunning on her. Emma also selected a manly signet ring for her husband, along with a set of cufflinks. After they had paid Harry lingered for a moment, motioning to the assistant for a word. Having sold nearly twenty-four hundred pounds of jewellery in one go, the assistant was more than happy to place both the Blue Topaz choker and the Ruby pendent in reserve for Harry to collect at a later date. He also added a delicate, formal tiara that Hermione had looked at a few times, again with a modest sapphire suspended at the point. Emma, having seen his motion, made sure the girls didn't see him talking with the assistant, touched as she was by his clear intent.

After an exhaustive run through the supermarket, itself a voyage of discovery for the magically raised witches, they returned to the Discovery, both shopping trolleys loaded with bags: one with the food, the other with all their other purchases. Daphne despaired that they'd never get all of the bags in the car with them. Emma proved however that she had knack for packing, as she got almost all the bags in the boot-space, with only the lighter, clothing filled bags on the passengers laps.

It was nearly five when they were finally able to sit down in the lounge at the Grangers home. It had been a novel, if slightly unwelcome, experience for Susan and Daphne to move all the purchases themselves without the aid of magic.

"We really, really underestimate muggles, don't we?" Daphne commented lightly to Susan.

"I know. Auntie's done some research now and again in the muggle world, and what would happen if the magical was exposed." She shivered.

"That bad?" Daphne asked.

Susan frowned. "Depends on how it was revealed. Peacefully, helpfully, not that badly now. A hundred years ago, not so. But if the Death Eaters were the ones to expose us..." She trailed off, looking ashen.

* * *

Halfway across England Neville Longbottom relaxed into a soft armchair, his eyes on the fireplace before him but not seeing it. Instead he played the day just past over in his mind. A smile was on his face as he recalled the pleasantly surprising visitor he'd received. His gran had been most surprised; it appeared that she was still having trouble accepting the changes that had come over him this past year.

He'd paid her scant mind though, focusing instead on his guest. She'd explained that with her normal summer friend currently unavailable, she'd been at a loose end, and was it alright if she came here? He'd enthusiastically welcomed her, and granted her leave to visit anytime. His gran, in shock, had confirmed his words.

They'd spent the day together, mostly talking, both about their Hogwarts years and their lives outside of the school. He'd begged her forgiveness when it came for him to tend to his greenhouse, a daily task during the summer months. To his joy she had waved his apologies off, and instead followed him out and assisted him, something he was really grateful for.

They had lunched on the patio, while his gran had – lightly – grilled her about her family and views. Although Neville understood why she did it, he was still a little annoyed with his gran for doing that. However he was pleased when he saw the subtle signs on his grans' face that their guest had passed the light examination... a fact he relayed to her afterwards when she voiced the fear that his gran didn't like her. Her happy, bashful smile had lifted him up into the clouds.

As the afternoon had gone on the talk had led to Harry Potter. Neville was able to let her know about the real Harry Potter, not the attention seeking, deranged manic as portrayed in the Daily Prophet. To her credit she admitted that she had not been able to relate the Harry she knew and saw in the castle with the one depicted in the papers. Between them, they had both agreed to support Harry in whatever he did. House Longbottom had long been allies of House Potter, and Neville intended to continue that proud tradition.

A short while ago it had been time for her to return home, and the two of had been reluctant to part. As they had stood there, face to face before the fire, Neville had summoned his courage. Her answer had caused his pulse to race, but it was her lips on his that calmed his mind. It hadn't been a long kiss, certainly not a lovers snog, but there was a strong hint of better things to come.

Now he sat in the same armchair he'd almost floated into after she'd left, his smile still fixed to his face. Not even thoughts about his grans reaction could possibly break that.

"Neville?" As if summoned by his thoughts, her voice came from across the sitting room. Turning his head he looked at her.

"Yes Gran?"

She looked at him searchingly, holding his gaze for a long moment. In the past such a look would have made him feel small and worthless, and would have him fidgeting and bowing his head. Not this time though. He held her gaze, the smile still on his lips. He would prove worthy of his name.

After a few more seconds, she smiled slightly. Just the barest twitch at the corner of her mouth, but it was enough. "I approve of the match. A nice girl, sensible. Should I contact the Lord Abbot about a betrothal contract?"

Neville's heart leapt into cartwheels at her words, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "If tradition demands... But isn't it a bit early for that?"

"It is the done thing, Neville." Augusta softly told him. "As for the contract, it can be worded to allow for the feelings to grow between the intended naturally. If they do not, the contract can be voided without any repercussions."

"... then by all means, do so. My only concern is her happiness." He hesitated for a moment, then allowed a little emotion to leak through. "Thank you gran."

Madam Augusta Longbottom looked at her only Grandson warmly. He'd done so much growing and maturing in the last year, it still seemed unreal to her. Gone was the bumbling, clumsy lad who'd had no real prospects – or ability - to continue the family name and honour. His association with one Harry Potter had galvanised him, transformed him into an heir she could, and was, proud of. She nodded slowly before backing out.

Neville waited until he heard the door to her study close before allowing the whoop of joy freedom. He was really on a roll today! Girlfriend – who would hopefully soon be his betrothed – and his grans respect all in one day? That was better than any of his dreams to date! Take that Malfoy! And you too Ronald! He'd never let on that he'd heard Ron insult him in passing in the past, when he was not aware of either himself or Harry's presence. Intellectually he knew Ron had not been aware of what he'd been saying; his habit of speaking without thinking was legendary within Hogwarts. But his words still hurt, deeply.

Only way to top things now was getting a matching wand!

Or his parents back.

That thought put a damper on his spirit, and he lowered his arm from where he'd thrust it into the air. The aching loneliness of his parents loss still hurt. He couldn't miss them; he'd been barely fifteen months when the attack happened. But he'd never felt that warmth of parental approval.

That was something he had to tell Hannah about, and soon. His parents.

In some ways, he envied Harry. While he too had lost his parents, they were dead. He could move on, seeing them in photos as the people they had been. He, however, saw they as they had become; frail, broken things. Ruthlessly he shoved that thought aside. That was the path Ron took, and he was dammed if he ever went the same way as that berk.

Tapping on the window drew him out of his thoughts, and he looked to see a white form there. Hurrying over, he opened the window to reveal Harry's owl.

"Hello Hedwig. Letter from Harry?"

The Snowy Owl clicked her beak at him before extending a leg. After he'd released the letter she took to the air over his head and glided to the table by the chair. Shrugging to himself, he closed the window before returning to his chair to read the letter. He was smiling once more when he reached the end, especially at the last paragraph. It was about time those two got together! Almost the whole of Gryffindor house expected them to, with the notable exceptions of the youngest two Weasleys. The twins had been running a pool on when Harry and Hermione started dating officially... they had already been dating unofficially for three to five years now, depending on who you asked.

The mention of Susan and Daphne also being in the relationship had him chuckling a little enviously, but Neville was aware of enough of Harry's life to date to feel that if anyone deserved a harem, it was Harry.

Bursting to share his own news, Neville quickly stood to find parchment and quill.

* * *

A/N: Just to let you know, the spelling mistakes in Ron's letter are deliberate. And don't pelt me with rotten fruit (or insulting reviews). I have a explaination for his degrading behaviour. The first clue was in chapter 11 in fact.


	14. Planning Ahead

A/N: Welcome back everyone. Thank you to every one who has reviewed of late. I hope thing chapter continues to deliever. I also hope that the name change hasn't confused anyone. The old one was/is the working title, and I wasn't totally copmfortable with it. Thanks go to 'Pround Mudblood' for coming up with it.

* * *

Harry blinked the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, sitting up from the futon sofa-bed. He had to admit, although it creaked a bit when he first laid on it, it was _extremely _comfortable. Certainly much more comfortable than his bunk at Hogwarts. Placing his glasses back on, he glanced towards the window to see sunlight just starting to stream through... making a nice halo around a sleeping Snowy Owl.

"Hedwig?" He breathed quietly. Two brilliant golden eyes snapped open and Hedwig clacked her beak in answer.

Smiling, he stood and walked over to the perch Hermione had placed in the room, likely after first year, to give her some attention. Hedwig warbled as he stroked her head before lifting a leg. Harry gently slid the letter off her leg, recognising the writing on the outside as Neville's. For a boy who was rather clumsy a few years ago, he did have neat writing.

Hearing movement from the other bedrooms, Harry gave Hedwig another stroke. "You take a break girl."

Hedwig shuffled before settling down once more, her eyes drifting closed.

Throwing on one of his new t-shirts and tracksuit trousers, he stepped out of the room just as Emma emerged herself.

"Morning Harry."

"Morning Mrs Granger."

She looked at him fondly. "Harry... It's Emma. Especially since you and Hermione are now together."

Harry flushed. "Sorry Mrs Gra... I mean, Emma."

She chuckled before following him down the stairs to the kitchen. With practiced routine she had the coffee going and bread in the toaster. Harry found himself reaching for the fridge to start cooking, but stilled before stepping back, shaking his head. When he saw Emma looking at him strangely, he shrugged.

"Sorry, habit."

Her expression softened, Emma took a seat on one of the stools by the kitchen table. At a gesture, Harry did the same. She looked at him for a long moment, long enough to start him shifting uncomfortably, before she spoke.

"Harry... Hermione told me, after a little persuasion, what you said about your... relatives."

Harry stilled, before shrugging. "I guessed you would learn of it sooner or later." He said softly.

"Hermione didn't want to say." Emma told him, and smiled when he was visibly reassured by her words. "But it is something I need to know."

"Why?"

Emma smiled at him, though her smile was tinged with sadness. "Harry, I only know a little about your home life, the few bits I've managed to tease out of Hermione and what I've seen since you got here. But I know enough to know roughly what it was like." She looked at him frankly, at which Harry bowed his head.

"I know enough to realise that you were mistreated, at the least. Only you can tell me just how badly. But Harry..." She reached out and lifted his chin so she could look him in the eyes. Those emerald eyes that looked so lost and vulnerable at that moment. "...Think on this: From the little I know, I can tell you, with absolute certainty, that what they did was criminal. If it came to light, they would be punished, Harshly." Gently laying a hand on his shoulder, she smiled softly at him.

"You don't have to tell me now, later, tomorrow, this year or ever if you don't want to. I just want you to know that if you want to talk, to see them punished, then I'm willing to listen."

"We all are." Daphne's voice came from the doorway, making them both start. Looking over, they saw the three young witches looking at Harry with tears in their eyes. Hermione appeared too choked up to speak: instead she just stepped forwards and put her arms around Harry, who quickly slid an arm round her shoulders in comfort.

Behind the young women Nathan stood silently, but nodded slowly to his wife. They had discussed how to approach Harry on this. Softly, slowly was the order, despite how much he wanted to drive round to Surrey and make the Dursley's confess to their sins. Ideally using a hot branding iron applied David Lister style.

* * *

The four teens spent the morning working on their History work. Harry barely kept awake, but Hermione's newly devised 'Reward' system kept him at it. They finished up just in time for lunch, which they took out onto the patio once more, along with drinks and their notepads where they had written their thoughts on the previous years.

As they ate Hermione compared the notes, noting the different ways each of them saw the same events, and what they could mean.

"Anything Hermione?" Harry asked softly.

Hermione sat back with a sigh. "Honestly? Not a lot. It's certain that Dumbledore is either not as all-knowing and all-powerful as he claims or is thought to be... or he's deliberately allowing events to happen when he could, and more importantly _should_, step in.

"For instance, Quirrell. He must have been possessed sometime in July, maybe even earlier. He then spent ten months in Hogwarts, with Dumbledore not far away. Now, it might be that the Headmaster really did not know, but that means that he is losing his touch.

"And while we're on the subject, what was he thinking? Hiding an incredibly powerful relic like the Philosophers Stone in a _school_? Behind tests that three first years, with barely any knowledge of magic, could get past? And the Mirror was not part of those tests until _after _you found it and learned its secret! But then he tells three hundred children not to go somewhere? That's a sure way to have a lot do just that, to find out _why_! I'm surprised no-one was killed by Hagrid's pet!"

It fell to Susan to explain. "Hermione... remember who we are dealing with. Dumbledore is _the _most respected wizard in our world, not just in Britain but around the world too."

"Maybe... but muggleborns would not have heard of him before entering the school. Surely other first years would have been curious!"

"Then why didn't you explore the mystery yourself?" Daphne cut in.

Hermione opened her mouth... and then snapped it shut, her brow furrowed. "I... I didn't. I just... accepted what he said and put the matter out of mind." Her frown deepened. "Something's wrong here..."

Slowly they went through the events from each year. Each on their own, even as part of one year, was insignificant, but together... the image stank. Daphne was the first, with her Slytherin deviousness, to work that things were being set up so that Harry was isolated, dependent on others for information and direction.

And the most common contact was Ron and Molly Weasley.

"Harry..." Hermione cut in. "When you first met the Weasley's, it was at King's Cross before first year?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. She was on the muggle side, and had forgotten the platform..." he trailed off.

"What was she doing on that side?" Susan asked frowning. "There is no reason for her to be there, as the Floo is on the magical side." Her frown deepened. "And doesn't Ron have five older brothers? She 'forgot' the platform number, after how many years of sending her children to Hogwarts, not to mention going herself?"

"She was there, waiting for you." Daphne stated unhappily.

Harry and Hermione shared an unhappy look. The Weasleys had been their first friends in the Magical World. This fact suggested that that friendship was not all it appeared. Was it possible that they were using Harry for their own ends? In an instant Harry knew that not all of them would, or were. Bill already had a successful career, as did Charlie. Percy was a toad, but was so self-centred that he had no need to suck up to him... not to mention had his head too far up his ass to even consider asking someone younger for help, while Arthur was too honest for anything like this.

The twins were devious, but they had always been straight with him. Also, unlike many others, they had not fawned over him when they learned his name. Only Hermione had been better about it. He knew that when it came down to it, the Twins would back him all the way. Course, they would be setting up pranks all along the way, but that was them. Besides, the laughter would be help counter the darkness. That was why he'd given them the Tri-Wizard winnings.

That left Ron, Ginny and Molly. Ginny he knew was infatuated with him... something that made him shiver. Molly fussed and smothered, pushed her nose into things that didn't concern her. She also seemed to be trying to take his mothers place, and frankly, he was not going to allow that... for anyone. Only Hermione's mum Emma was allowed anywhere close to that role.

Ron... Harry scowled as he recalled what his supposed 'best mate' had been like since the Department of Mysteries. The way he had treated Hermione... it was unforgiveable.

Sighing to expel his anger, Harry looked up at Hermione. "What do we do?"

Hermione sighed herself. "I'm not sure. We really need to know who's on our side of things."

"Start with those you are either certain of or almost so." Emma's voice startled them as she stepped out from the living room, her eyes fixed on her daughter. Hermione swallowed nervously. She knew the look she was getting was a simple message. They had discussed everything that had happened... including those events that she had not told her parents. The Look her mother was giving told her that she was in for a Talk.

"Now, may I suggest something?" At Harry's still shocked nod, Emma continued. "Hermione, as the weather's set to be good, Nathan was planning to do a barbeque again this Saturday." The news cheered Hermione instantly. Like many British born people, she relished a good barbeque. "As we bought extra yesterday, why don't you invite a few other friends round... those you feel you can trust. Your families as well." She nodded towards Susan and Daphne. Both brightened at the thought.

"How many?" Harry asked cautiously.

Emma's thoughts turned inwards, if the visual clues Harry saw signified the same thing for her as they did her daughter. Hermione's face had the same expression whenever she was thinking something over. After a moment she nodded slowly. "No more than twelve. Any more and things will be too crowded, and I'll need to make another shopping run." It was clear from her tone that she was reluctant to do so.

Hermione glanced towards the side of the patio, where a brick built barbeque stood. "Would dad really mind cooking for twenty?"

Emma smiled. "You know he loves barbequing. He won't mind." _I'll make certain of that _she thought to herself.

Harry gasped. "That reminds me! I got a letter from Neville this morning." He quickly dashed inside to get the tightly wound scroll.

Emma smiled at the three young women. "Think about who you want to attend. And don't tease him too much." She winked at their blushing faces before stepping back inside.

Harry sat and read Neville's letter while the three witches huddled together, discussing who they could trust and invite. They did notice him smiling early on, but his chuckle brought questioning looks from the three.

Grinning, he looked up at them. "Well Hermione, we won't be the only new couple at Hogwarts."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Neville and...?"

"Hannah."

Susan grinned happily. Hannah was a good friend of hers, and she knew that the shy blond had had a bit of a crush on the shy Gryffindor for a while now. Both Hermione and Daphne smiled at the news.

Harry gestured to the paper before them. "So who did you three pick?"

Hermione looked down at it, her eyes running over the list she'd written. "Well... certainly Neville, Hannah and Tracy. Along with Madam Bones and Professor McGonagall." She looked up at him once more. "We can tell her that those quarters she mentioned will be needed after all."

Harry nodded. "Good idea. Maybe we'll be able to have those from other houses visit..." He mused, thinking ahead.

Susan nodded. "We hope so. I would hate to lose touch with Hannah."

Daphne looked a little apprehensive. "Harry... if we can have those from other houses visit... or even spend the night... would..."

Harry smiled reassuringly at her. "Don't worry Daphne; your sister can stay with us. Tracy too if she wants."

Daphne leaned across to wrap her arms around him, kissing him softly on the cheek. "Thanks Harry." She half whispered softly.

Blushing lightly, Harry looked towards Hermione, who was beaming at him approvingly. "Who else?" He asked a little shakily.

"Daphne's parents and her sister Astoria. Luna, though I'm not sure if she's on another trip with her father. Remus certainly. Tonks if she can get the day off, but since Madam Bones is her boss she might be here any ways. Bill and Fleur, maybe."

Harry nodded slowly. "The twins?" He asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I would include them, but I doubt they could behave for the whole time."

Harry shrugged, accepting that. "We'll have to talk to them at some point. Of all the Weasleys, they're the only ones I'm sure of." Hermione nodded in agreement.

Daphne clapped her hands. "So... letters?"

Half an hour later both owls were winging away, almost a dozen letters between them. Daphne handled her parents, making sure to stress that it was a muggle residence where she was staying, and thus arrival and dress had to be appropriate. She knew her parents tried to keep abreast of developments in the muggle world, but it only took a small slip to raise awkward questions. Susan knew that she didn't have the same issue with her Aunt, while Harry figured that Remus and Tonks were up with current muggle culture enough to pass by.

* * *

That evening after the meal, Hermione accompanied her parents to their bedroom for the talk her mother had insisted on. Finding themselves at loose ends both Susan and Daphne decided to spend some time with Harry without her. They knew they got on with him, but neither felt they had that connection with him that Hermione did.

Knocking on the ajar door, they waited for a moment before stepping in. Harry was sat back on the futon bed, the light from the small TV across from him playing over his face. There was a happy, contented expression on his face.

"Enjoying the show?" Daphne asked with a light teasing, happy note.

Harry shrugged as she sat near his feet, one knee on its side with the foot under her other knee. "It's okay. Bit silly really." He smiled warmly. "I'm just... happy to be here. Be _normal_ for a change."

Susan smiled warmly as she sat beside him, an arm going around his shoulders. When he looked at her in confusion, her eyes twinkled.

"Can't your second girlfriend get a hug and a cuddle?" She asked good-naturedly. After a moment Harry nodded, and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as she snuggled into his side. After another moment his arm looped around her lower back, and her smile widened fractionally.

At the other end of the bed Daphne looked at the two of them, surprised at her feelings. Despite the way she felt for him, she felt no serious envy or jealousy for Susan at all. It was the same for Hermione earlier. Or for the whole of this week. It was a number of little, odd things that she had noted about their decidedly strange relationship. Oh, there was a smidgen of course. It normally was about who he was paying attention to at that point. But had never been serious.

Pushing the thought aside for a moment, she looked at Harry's free side before a wicked smile crossed her face. Bringing her other leg up, Daphne crawled up Harry's body, her eyes fixed to his. It warmed her inside when she saw his gaze drop from her face to her exposed cleavage. Although she didn't begrudge either of them, she was at times envious of Susan and Hermione's larger bust size, although she was aware that she didn't really have the build to carry off such large assets. Moments such as this, when Harry noticed that she too had breasts, reassured her.

It had been an eye-opening experience, shopping in a muggle clothing store. The range of colours, styles and materials had been far, far more than anywhere in the magical world. And none had been as startling as the range of underwear. It had been clear that Susan had been just as shocked, though Hermione hadn't even raised an eyebrow. Daphne had asked why the range; after all, they were undergarments, not to be seen by others! Hermione had chuckled, and then asked 'what about your boyfriend/husband?' Neither magically-raised witch could come up with a suitable reply to that bit of logic.

Hermione however had offered up other reasons. Some women, knowing they were wearing such underwear under their clothes, felt sexier. A form of positive thinking about themselves. There were also different styles for different occasions and different clothing, such as maternity, sports and others too numerous to list.

What had been most interesting had been when they started trying on new bras. Both herself and Hermione had been uncomfortable over the last couple of days, though they had made do with Hermione borrowing one of Susan's and lending one of hers to Daphne. Not ideal, but better than their own.

In the end, they had determined that while their chest measurements hadn't changed significantly, they had each gained in the bust. Hermione had been a comfortable 34C, but she had gained almost an inch and a half on the bust line, putting her at the upper end of a D cup. After trying on a few, she picked some of that size and some that were the next size up.

Susan had gained the least, just over a half inch. But that just enough to push her up a cup size. Fortunately, the shop they were at catered for those with the larger chest. All three had gaped at some of the larger sets on display, trying to picture just how large a woman had to be to need something that size.

Surprisingly, Daphne had the largest increase, a fraction under two inches, two whole cup sizes. Hermione had postulated that the magic involved in their cure for Harry somehow, for some reason, was trying to make them equal in that regard, although there would always be a difference due to their builds: Susan would always have the largest bust, unless Daphne went up three sizes while Susan didn't change.

Whatever the reason or cause, Daphne had been very pleased when she had a chance to examine her new figure, with its more pronounced curves and fuller profile. She was still getting used to the minor downside of her increased assets – namely, looking down at her feet was impossible now without bending over, the added weight and mass, plus she had to discard some clothes that would no longer fit – but overall she was well pleased.

Harry struggled to lift his eyes from the enticing view, looking back towards her face. Daphne had stopped with her face just before his, still on her hands and knees astride him. Her blue eyes looked at him with warmth, a small smile twisting her lips.

"Boyfriend Privileges Harry. You can look."

"Just don't ogle to the exclusion of the rest of us." Susan chipped in from under his arm, prompting him to look towards her. Her face was upturned towards him, Her smile widened when his eyes jumped to her own cleavage before he blushed.

"But... I mean... Isn't looking... like that... disrespectful?" His voice was filled with nervousness.

Daphne sighed as she rolled off him to snuggle into his free side, opposite Susan. "It is, when you don't know the woman. Also when you are looking and mentally undressing her." Daphne shivered. "I know what that feels like." Inside however she was considering Harry. _'He'll go toe to toe with a monster Basilisk to save someone's life, yet is terrified of dealing with girls, with offending us. Just what have his relatives put him through?'_

Susan nodded. "Me too. I could always tell if someone was doing that." She looked up again at him. "It's in the eyes." Her smile returned. "Thank you Harry."

Harry frowned, confused. "Er, thanks. What for?"

Susan giggled. "You never looked at me that way Harry. Sure, I knew you were aware of my… assets, but you never ogled." Her smile faded. "Ron, however... He never hid his staring. He made me feel, unclean."

Harry's face fell. "Sor..."

Before he even finished Susan's hand had whipped out and a finger rested over his lips, silencing him. "You have no cause to apologise for him Harry. He did the wrong, not you." She smiled softly, eyes sparkling. "But thank you for the thought." Stretching up, she replaced her finger with her lips. Daphne snuggled a little more into him, her arms around his body.

Harry was getting used to these impromptu kisses, and was starting to look forward to them. A small part of him was still unsure about this whole 'Four-way' relationship thing, the idea of having three girlfriends. Frankly, the idea terrified him, if he was honest. His brief time with Cho showed how _one _could be a handful; how was he going to cope with _three_?

However a steadily growing part of him was telling him not to worry about all that, just focus on the feelings and enjoy life. As before, he could almost feel Susan melting into him as he continued the kiss. He was amazed at how this strong young woman became almost putty in his hands.

Walking back from her parent's bedroom after her uncomfortable talk with them, Hermione paused as her lips tingled with warmth. It was as if she was being kissed... she trailed her fingers over her lips, confused yet pleased. Her insides, still achy after everything that had happened in the last fortnight, felt soothed and comfortable.

Reaching the door to the study, she paused to look in first. A tired but happy smile formed as she saw Harry lounging back against the futon's backrest, Susan and Daphne under each arm snuggled into his flanks. She'd been worried that despite the obvious physical attractiveness and willingness of her friends, Harry would hold them at arm's length, not let them in. The sight before her washed such thoughts away.

At the back of her mind however, she did wonder _why _the sight of Harry with two other women was not filling her with sadness. Before all of this, even when he was assisting others in the DA, she always felt a pulse of resentment towards the girl in question. During those nearly two months he had with Cho, every time she saw them together during the meetings her heart felt torn apart.

Now however she felt only contentment and happiness, verging on love. Would she prefer to be in his arms instead of standing outside? Hell yes. But not at the expense of the others bonding with him.

Deciding to leave them to it, she backed away and headed for her own room, deciding to have an early night. The talk with her parents had been difficult, but ultimately they had accepted her reasons for withholding the details of her years at Hogwarts. Now she was just tired, a state she was becoming very familiar with, thanks to her injury at the Ministry and her exertions to save Harry. Hopefully she'd fully recover before summer was over.

* * *

The headline of the Friday Daily Prophet next morning brought a smile to Harry's face when he saw it.

'_**MINISTER GIVEN THE BOOT!'**_

'_**Minster Fudge forced out of office after Vote of No Confidence narrowly passed through Wizengomont'**_

Beneath the headline was a large print of the now-former Minister. An older one, where he was posed regally, or so he thought. Beneath that was a small block of text on one side, while the other was a more active image of him leaving the Ministry head bowed, escorted by a pair of Auror's. Harry chuckled when he saw that Kingsley was one of the two escorts.

Then a face appeared just behind Fudge's, and Harry's twisted into a scowl that matched the one on that face.

"SHIT!"

Harry's explosive declaration brought sharp, surprised looks from the others around the table. "Harry, Language!" Hermione admonished.

Still too furious to hear her, Harry glanced up to meet their eyes. "Lucius Malfoy's been released!"

"WHAT?" Hermione all but snatched the paper out of his hands. "Where?"

"Behind Fudge as he leaves the Ministry." Harry grumbled.

The others all peered closely at the photo, until sure enough Malfoy Senior was exposed. "Oh bugger!" Hermione stated.

Her parents looked at her sharply, but with concern. Anything that could make their normally politely spoken daughter swear must be bad. "Would someone mind telling us just who this person is?"

Daphne sighed. "Lucius Malfoy is bluntly, scum. Known Pure-blood Supremacist, he was charged with being a high level Death Eater after the Dark Lord's fall, but got off by stating that he was 'under the Imperius curse.'... that and a lot of gold. The worst kind of aristocrat; deceitful, backstabbing and cruel." She glanced towards Harry. "His son's the one who cursed Harry."

Nathan had a thoughtful look on his face. "Malfoy... wait, Draco's dad?" He looked at his daughter. "The one who insults you all the time?"

Hermione nodded.

Nathan breathed out slowly, obvious trying to keep his cool. "Okay... so what happens now?"

Harry sighed. "Hopefully, the new Minister will not be bought, which will mean that Malfoy will lose most of his power in the Ministry." He scowled. "He's a Death Eater through and through though. First chance he gets, he'll be out and about, torturing, murdering..."

Daphne frowned. "Not exactly Harry. I agree Draco's like that, but his father struck me more as a schemer and plotter. You can bet he'll be leading any group who puts pressure on the Noble Families to back, or at least not oppose, You-Know-Who though."

Harry looked at her now sharply. "Daphne... It's just a name. A made up one at that."

Daphne looked contrite. "Sorry Harry, but... you weren't brought up in the Magical World. You can't understand the fear that grips everyone around you when... that name, is spoken. He truly scared everyone."

Susan jumped in to help. "It's become almost a taboo Harry, as during those years when he arose, he killed almost all who even spoke out against him. People began to fear that even whispering his name would bring him forth to kill them. According to my aunt, by the time he went after you, the Ministry was on the verge of collapse. People were terrified to even open the front door, lest he be awaiting them on the other side. Even after he was defeated, I know my parents used 'You-Know-Who' as a means to frighten me into being good." A faint blush tinged her cheeks, though her eyes were sad.

Harry heaved a deep breath before sighing in resigned frustration. "Okay... I can see why people are so scared... but..." He looked them both in the eye. "if you let him terrify you into not even saying his name, then he's won already."

"Well said Harry." Nathan spoke up; laying a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Courage is in acknowledging ones fear, then moving past it, not letting it take control." He looked towards the two young witches with sympathy. "Maybe it's hard for us to understand, not having grown up in that sort of climate, but you do understand what we're saying?" At both girls nod, he turned his gaze back down to the paper that sparked everything off. "Is it likely that the others you told us about were also released?" His tone clearly stated that he would have a very negative opinion of the Ministry of Magic if that was the case.

Susan shook her head. "No. My Aunt is the director of Magical Law Enforcement. She'd never release them voluntarily. Lucius must have been released by order of Fudge himself."

"The two of them were very chummy last I saw." Harry commented,

"Given the slant the Prophet appears to be taking, it looks like he's hoping to be reinstated at some point." Hermione commented, having read the article while the others talked.

"Doubt it. Not after everything that's come out." Daphne commented.

"With Malfoy out, though..." Harry muttered.

* * *

At that moment, Lucius Malfoy was in no condition to plot anything. He was thrashing about on the hard stone floor of the Grand Ballroom in his Manor, as he was held under the Cruitus curse by his master.

After a few more moments, Voldemort tipped his wand up, breaking the spell. He had to spend a moment getting his breath back; ever since that night a week ago, he'd been weak and lacking power. Of course he could not let his followers, especially the ambitious Malfoy, know about his current problem.

"How fortunate that the foolish Minister, in his last act as such, had his 'dear friend' released from captivity." He half whispered. Voldemort was grateful that it was known he used half whispers when he was annoyed: it was all he could manage right now.

Lucius, breathing raggedly, didn't move from his place on the floor.

"I am _very _disappointed in you, Lucius."

"My Lord... We had Potter... Bel..."

"_CRUCIO!"_ Voldemort held the curse for five long seconds as Lucius thrashed about. He shook his head slowly after he ended the curse. "Lucius, do not think to divert your share of the blame onto Bella. You were the one in charge of getting the Prophecy Sphere. You had surprise, numbers and skill. Yet you let yourself be beaten by six _school children_! Of my Vaulted Inner Circle, two are now dead at the hands of Potter, the rest apart from Bella arrested. And the Prophecy lost!"

Racked with the terrible pain of the Torture Curse, Lucius was reducing to begging. "Please, My Lord... we can... still profit from... what happened!"

Voldemort cocked a non-existent eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell." His tone was laden with scorn and derision.

Lucius managed to rise to his knees. "... The traitor Black... fell through the... Veil of Death." Drawing more air, he slowly brought his head up to look at his master. "The line of Succession leads to my son, Draco."

"Does it indeed?" There was a questioning, interested note now.

A small part of Lucius' arrogance returned. "That is why I ensured that the fool Fudge issue that 'Dementor Kiss on Sight' order for him. With Black dead, Draco will inherit the title, the name... and the funds, of the Black Family."

Voldemort sat back, a thoughtful look on his face. The Black Family had vexed him in the past. They had supported him in his first rise, though only the youngest son had joined his ranks. He had planned that Regalus would have offered the Black Family funds for him to use once he inherited the Family. But then he had betrayed him, thus had to be killed. The fool even denied him that pleasure, having died in that cave. With that, he'd written off getting his hands on the massive fortune that the Ancient Family controlled. Besides, there were other families that had substantial amounts under their control.

But this... this was interesting. Young Draco was a snotty brat, but a mouldable one. With a little work, he'd be perfect as a new Inner Circle member. While he lacked the experience of his father, he made up for it with his cruelty and dark desires. Perfect to instil terror in those who dared oppose him.

"There is another advantage in this, My Lord." When Voldemort's eyes returned to him, Lucius went on. "Under Pureblood laws enacted after Grinwald, as the heir to two Family lines, he is required to take two wives. With the right selections - and certain, other arrangements - I believe we can acquire almost the entire wealth of Magical Britain for your use."

Voldemort's eyes widened at that statement. It was certainly a tempting prize. Visions of walking into Gringotts and informing the Goblins that they had to either serve him or see their way of life destroyed danced in his head for a few seconds, before he thought through the idea a bit more. Frowning he looked back at Lucius.

"Explain how you would, via those two marriages, acquire such wealth?" Voldemort fingered his wand as he spoke, the unspoken implication clear.

Lucius swallowed nervously, but answered. "Not just those two Marriages My Lord." Seeing his masters eyes harden he rushed to explain. "Many old Families have been negligent of late, and have only daughters to carry on their lines. They will have to use Line Continuation Contracts. If we ensure that the only offers those families have are those we give them, then we will have access to all those vaults." A smirk formed at the corner of his mouth. "Of course, those witches will be brought here to 'service' your loyal followers as and when they please."

Voldemort sat back in his throne, his features relaxing. "Lucius, your convoluted mind has granted you a reprieve... for now." He smiled thinly at the paling of the aristocrats face. "But you are not in the clear yet. Go bring your son before me. I need to be sure of the loyalty of all my followers."

Lucius swallowed audibly. "May I ask, My Lord, how you intend for him to… prove his loyalty?"

Voldemort's smile tuned ice cold. "Young Draco must prove that he reveres me above you, Lucius. Or his mother. And Bella must lean the price of failure to control herself."

Unknown to both wizards, the two witches they were discussing were listening in on them. They had been sat in the dining room, going over what they could offer in return for protection, when Voldemort's first curse had been heard. Curious, they had moved to the slightly ajar doors that separated the two rooms.

Lucius walked to the doors, before leaning out. "Draco, enter." He called. After a few moments Draco Malfoy stepped in, as arrogantly as his father had done only a short while before, barely hiding the pain he still felt. He'd been sat outside, softly cursing Granger, Greengrass, and Potter for everything they'd done to him. HIM! He'd been only battered and bruised by the time he returned home: Pomfrey had said that she was out of all her potions needed to help him. They would pay…

"My Lord." He genuflected as he bowed before Voldemort.

"Ah, Draco. Your father had informed me of a plan he has devised to bring large quantities of money under my control… as well as provide entertainment for those I favour."

Once more Narcissa shuddered with repressed rage at her husband's total disregard for others.

"But I need to be sure that you will not betray me. You must prove yourself to me."

"How many I do so, Master?" Draco asked, anticipation colouring his tone.

"To prove your loyalty, once you have inherited the Black fortune, you are to turn it over to my control." Those eyes narrowed slightly, before a smirk formed on his face. "Do this, and the Dark Mark is yours... provided that you can prove that you can torture someone. Someone close."

"A test, Master?"

"Yes." Voldemort's head tipped to side, his eyes bright as he considered the young man before him. "After all, if you can torture your own mother, then it should be no problem inflicting the curse on others, now should it?"

Three sets of eyes widened, but only two were in horror. "You mean..."

"You have to prove that you can be one of my Inner Circle Draco. I require strong-willed followers to enact my orders."

Draco now nodded, his expression twisting into one of determination.

"Until then, you are to plan your first task as a member of my Death Eaters."

Draco was almost bouncing on his feet in excitement. "What is your bidding, Master?"

Voldemort looked towards Lucius. "Once you return to Hogwarts, you are to kill Albus Dumbledore."

Gasps escaped from the witches mouths, while Draco's jaw hung low. Lucius looked stricken.

"K... kill _Dumbledore_?" Draco asked in a quiet, panicking tone.

"Yes..." Voldemort answered slowly, a smirk playing on his lipless mouth. "That trusting old fool would never suspect that a student would try to kill him." _'The chances of success are so low as to be almost impossible, but repeated attempts should rattle him and keep him distracted.'_ Voldemort however did not voice such thoughts. That smirk grew however as he thought of an extra incentive for the young Malfoy. "If you can cause enough confusion and fear, enough that the school is closed early, then I'll let you form a stable of young witches for your own pleasure."

Draco's eyes sparkled with sadist glee, erasing the panicked expression he wore before. "Really, Master?"

Voldemort nodded, his eyes narrowed fractionally as he probed the fools mind, looking for his secret desires and ambitions… those that he was reluctant to admit even to himself. Narcissa Malfoy appeared prominently in his second most hoped for ambition. He wanted affection from the normally cold woman… much more.

First appeared to be watching a monster of some sort repeatedly – violently, cruelly, painfully - rape a Miss Granger, a mudblood that had caused Draco much pain and trouble... and was a very close friend and ally of Harry Potter. _'Interesting... it appears that this Miss Granger is the brains behind Harry, much like Lily had been for his father... and they share affection for each other. Severus should be able to lay his hands on her home address easily enough. Her loss will devastate the boy..."_

Voldemort's red gaze now fixed on Malfoy Senior. "Lucius... return to the Ministry and see if that silver tongue of yours has not been tarnished. I want a useless Minister, one lacking skill or wit. Director Bones is to be overlooked, passed over for someone who talks good but fails in every way. Do this, and you will have spared yourself great pain. Fail…" Voldemort trailed off, the implications clear.

Lucius shuddered. "Y…yes, My Lord!" He intoned.

Bellatrix pulled Narcissa away from the door and back to the table, not liking the shaking of her sisters frame, nor the paling of her face. In the time that she'd been free from prison, she'd seen but not registered that Narcissa was devoted to her son, even if he was turning out to be even worse than his father. But what they had just heard...

Their eyes met, and Bella had to swallow back bile at the sight of the mixed terror and revulsion in her sisters eyes. "I can't stay here sis..." Cissa whispered. "I just... can't. I've lost him." She said the last quietly, in resignation, her last hope for the son she had borne dying.

"I'm not asking you to." Bella softly said. "Let's just hope your right about the Black succession..."

Cissa shook her head. "You know as well as I that if it passes to Potter, Lucius will want answers. I'll be lucky if I end up in the bed next to the Longbottoms."

Bella's breath hitched, her mind racing back to that night years ago. Swallowing back the nausea, she tried to reassure her sister. "We'll leave, right after the Will reading. Hopefully, he'll grant us sanctuary..."

Narcissa looked her in the eye. "What are the chances of that?" She asked her tone defeated.

Bella had no answer. They were pinning their hopes on a young man who had every reason in the world to let them hang from their own deeds... and in her own mind, Bella knew that she deserved to do so. She had done terrible things, horrible things. She deserved no mercy or peace... only death.


	15. Breaking Bread

A/N: Well, here's the next update, with the first half of the BBQ.

* * *

Saturday morning dawned bright and cheerful. Hermione's clear enthusiasm infected the others, who looked forward to the forthcoming event. On her suggestion, none of them had breakfast that morning, as the normal routine was for her father to start cooking about ten, with them all eating over the next couple of hours. The three young women dressed a bit more conservatively than they had the last couple of days: The older magical guests would likely not look too fondly on the summer fashions they had wearing, with the almost bare shoulders, short skirts and low necklines.

Harry, having never experienced this form of cooking before, was out back with Nathan assisting and learning, while Hermione and the other two witches remained in the living room, ready to greet their guests. Emma was in the kitchen, preparing the salads and other food.

Sure enough just after ten there was a knocking on the door. When Hermione opened it she found Neville and Hannah stood on her doorstep. Or rather, Neville was supporting a rather queasy looking Hannah.

"Hi Neville, Hannah. Come in and sit before you fall down." She ushered them into the living room were they both gratefully sunk into the sofa.

"Thanks Hermione. That Knight bus can be rather... rough." Neville supplied slowly, taking deep breaths. Already the colour was coming back in Hannah's cheeks.

Susan moved to sit by her former housemate. "So... we hear there's something you two want to tell us?" She asked cheekily.

Smiling bashfully, Hannah took Neville's hand in her own. "Well... Neville asked me to date him Wednesday afternoon. I did kind of... drop in unannounced." She blushed almost as red as Susan's hair as Neville just smiled.

Giggling Susan pulled Hannah into a hug as Harry stepped in from outside.

"Hey Neville." He said as he offered his hand. Neville grinned as he shook with Harry.

"Harry." Neville's smile bordered on a smirk. "I gather you've been having some... interesting times here."

Harry chuckled. "Yes... I suppose you could say that."

Any further conversation was cut short by the sound of knocking on the front door. When Hermione returned, she led Professor McGonagall in.

"Professor, welcome."

"Thank you Mister Potter. I trust your new living arrangements have been more to your liking this summer?"

Harry couldn't help but grin at his head of House. "Much better professor, especially the company."

"Yes..." McGonagall's gaze drifted across the three witches who were staying in the house. "I can imagine."

Harry cleared his throat, nervously. "Professor... you mentioned ma... married quarters for next term."

McGonagall looked back at him, a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth as she held in her amusement. She knew that as a professor, she should not have favoured students. But she couldn't help it but feel... _protective_, even fond, of some. Harry was the second Potter to fall into that category, and was almost at the top of the list. Miss Granger only just topped him, with his parents just below.

"I... We, were wondering just what such arrangements would entail. Would students from other houses be able to visit freely?" He glanced towards Daphne briefly.

That twitch became a small smile now as she guessed his motives. As ever, Harry was not thinking of himself, but rather his friends and loved ones. She hated to admit it, but she too was worried about the young witches in Slytherin House. Albus appeared to be unwilling to act, and with Snape all but encouraging the Death Eater's children...

"The quarters I was planning for you to use will be adjacent, and connected, to the Gryffindor common room. I expect that all of you..." her gaze moved across all five of the Gryffindors in the room. "...Will mix with the others in your House. The quarters however do have their own entrance, so you can entertain guests from the other Houses. It also has several bedrooms, originally intended for the families of the couple to use when visiting. The exact details can be dealt with nearer the time."

Looks of relief passed across all the students faces, none clearer than on Miss Greengrass's. Before anything else could be said Emma Granger stepped through, a tray of salad in her hands.

"Hello Professor, nice to see you again. Would you like something to drink?"

"And you, Mrs Granger. Tea would be ideal." She followed Emma outside to the patio.

Inside, Daphne sighed with relief. "Thank Merlin..."

Harry stepped over to gently pat her shoulder as Hermione moved to answer the door again. "You're family now Daphne." He said quietly. She looked up at him, blue eyes wide and unguarded. "We would have found a way to keep her safe."

Too choked up for words, Daphne stood up rapidly to engulf him in a hug, her lips pressing against his. Acting instinctively, his arms went around her waist, gently holding her. Harry was once more reminded that under her cold, icy persona that she presented to everyone else at Hogwarts, Daphne was a delicate, slightly vulnerable person.

"Darling... could you introduce us?"

The unknown female voice made Harry pause, and he felt Daphne freeze in his arms. Breaking apart they both turned their heads towards the doorway, where an elegantly dressed older woman stood, one hand on a hip and a thin but bemused smile on her lips. She was tall, with a long trail of pale blond hair that hung down her back. She wore an elegant, dark green ankle length dress with long sleeves, with a low neckline that started somewhere around her breastbone. Under than thin dress however a high-collared white shirt rose up to clasp around her throat. She looked every inch a regal Lady.

Her other hand was on the smaller figure at her side, though it took a moment for Harry to recognise the girl in the lighter coloured summer dress as Daphne's little sister Astoria. Although she was as elegantly dressed as her mother, she was far less reserved, demonstrated by the grin she was shooting at her big sister. Behind the shorter girl was Tracy Davis, and Harry was surprised to see her dressed in a casual, muggle manner, not what he expected. She was looking at Daphne with a 'What the hell?" expression.

Seeing that Daphne was still speechless – though the cause was clearly different, given her red cheeks – Harry decided to take the initiative. He stepped forwards, hands beside him as Daphne had coached. "Harry Potter, Ma'am." He looked towards the other two. "Hello Astoria, Tracy."

Eleanor Greengrass looked closely over the young man before her. Harry, knowing that he'd be meeting people he wanted to make a good impression on, had dressed in neat, pale trousers made of a light cotton. A loose, airy short-sleeved shirt struck a compromise between being formal and remaining cool. While his hair was still a mess, he had decided to try the new glasses Hermione had selected for him, ones that darkened when exposed to sunlight. But what struck her most about him was his pose. At first glance it was a loose, 'At ease' stance, but there was a certain confidence mixed in. There also was not a trace of the arrogance that she normally encountered, a refreshing change.

Tracy however was finding herself struggling to maintain her cool. Harry looked a _lot _better in decent clothing. When they'd walked into find Daphne practically wrapped around the 'Gryffindor Golden Boy', she'd been stunned. Hadn't he been involved with Granger already? Not that she was interested then. Her interest in boys had not grown much, if at all, from her first year. The company in her House certainly discouraged any interest.

Over the years, Harry had always struck her as a bit of a runt. Not in a bad way, but rather because he seemed... undersized, for his age. His manners and attitude however had been top rate, certainly far superior to his best friend Ronald... one of the few people she couldn't stand. Only Malfoy was as obnoxious.

But now, however... maybe the others had the right idea about boys. Harry certainly cut a fine figure

Smiling a little wider now, Mrs Greengrass replied to his greeting. "Lady Eleanor Greengrass. It is a pleasure to finally meet you Mister Potter. Or do you prefer Harry?"

His face was a picture of relief. "Harry, please."

"Very well. I'm afraid my husband was unable to attend: business matters to attend to." She looked him up and down once more. "You certainly don't look like a raving nutcase, as the Prophet painted you." At his snort, an eyebrow rose, prompting him to explain.

"The Prophet Ma'am, is in the pockets of certain purebloods who would rather see me vilified than admit to Voldemort's..." He paused while Mrs Greengrass started slightly. "...Return. Instead, we had our previous minister whose way to deal with this issue was to bury his head in the sand and hope it went away by itself." The scorn in his tone was obvious.

Eleanor nodded slowly, becoming more and more impressed with this young man. "I agree Harry. Ignoring a problem is no solution..." There was a sadness to her tone that caught the attention of several of her listeners, but before anyone could enquire more knocks sounded.

"Daphne, why don't you show your family around?" Hermione suggested, taking a step back towards the front door.

"Yes... I'd like to know what you've up to here too Daph'." Tracy cut in, one eyebrow raised.

Harry, sensing the challenge in her voice, stepped up to Tracy, eyes slightly narrowed. "What are you saying Tracy?" He asked softly, though there was a hard edge.

In the past, Tracy always had a sharp comeback that had always cut down any fool who though he could intimidate her. Now though, she found herself mesmerised by those brilliant green eyes. Those eyes seemed to bore right through, laying her completely bare. It was an uncomfortable, yet exciting feeling for her. For the first time Tracy found herself having pleasant thoughts regarding a boy, which startled her to no end.

"Just... curious..." She answered nervously.

Daphne, sensing the tension building, quickly tugged on Tracy's sleeve to lead her outside. "Sorry about that Trace. Harry's rather... protective, of us."

Tracy shrugged, some of her normal manner returning. "My own fault Daph'. I just want to know why you were wrapped around him like that, when last I saw it was Granger who did that."

Daphne smirked playfully. "Who said she still doesn't?"

Tracy narrowed her eyes while her mother looked at her in confusion. "Talk, girl! What is going on here?"

Daphne cast a glance towards the elder Grangers who were in discussion with Professor McGonagall. With a gesture, she led the other three further up the garden. As they walked, Eleanor Greengrass couldn't help but notice the tranquil feel to the garden. While there were areas where the planting needed tending, the whole had a homey, gentle feel that made her feel comfortable, so unlike some of the other Noble Families gardens, set formal pieces where everything was in its proper place, making her feel like an intruder.

Once they were out of direct sight of the others, Daphne stopped and turned to face her mother. "Mother, I have to ask; please hear me out."

Eleanor frowned lightly at her beloved eldest daughter. It was an odd request, but she nodded, agreeing to her request.

Daphne took a deep breath before starting. "Story, how much did you tell mum about last week?" After her sister had told her, Daphne nodded before telling them all about the cursing of Harry. Eleanor had gasped and gone pale as ice when she learned of the curse used: it was not common knowledge, but she had heard of it being used on the continent. Mindful of her younger sister, Daphne skimmed over some of the details, but she told them enough to get the meaning across.

"But... that curse is unbreakable..."

Daphne smiled at her mother's confusion. "Hermione is the smartest witch since Rowena, mother. Maybe even smarter."

Eleanor stared bug eyed at her, then looked towards the gathering on the patio, at the young bushy haired woman. "Really?"

Daphne's smile widened a little. "Oh yes." Her smile faded. "Although... it did require a sacrifice, of sorts."

Eleanor looked sharply at her. Then her gaze softened. "Oh Daphne..."

"Better Harry than Draco Malfoy, promptly followed by Crabbe and Goyle."

All three of them shared expressions of disgust. Eleanor had been forced to be polite to the elders of those families at social functions. Of them all only Mrs Malfoy had been brought up in a Noble Family, and Eleanor actually got on well with her... when she could get her away from her bottom-crawler of a husband. She detested Lucius on sight, and from the few encounters she'd had, and her daughter's descriptions, his son was no better.

Daphne looked apprehensive. "I've... not mentioned it to him yet. But... I think... no, I _know_, he'll help us with our families... problem."

Eleanor looked closely at her, while Astoria gasped. Tracy was stunned: she knew a little of the Greengrass's history, so could understand what Daphne was referring to.

"Are you sure?" Eleanor placed a hand on her daughters shoulder, looking into her eyes intently. "Could you share him with another? As the last Potter, he'll need another to continue that line..."

Daphne smiled once more. "I already am. And the spot for Lady Potter is already taken." She hesitated, but then pressed on. "And... it's not exclusive to me and Hermione."

Tracy groaned. "Bone's too?" At Daphne's nod, she hid her face in her hands... partly to conceal the flush that filled her face at the mental image that had entered her mind.

Eleanor's face was flushed too, but for a wholly different reason. "Lord of three Noble Families..." She breathed.

Daphne frowned. "Actually, it might even be four. His godfather was the last Black."

Tracy's jaw fell. "But... wasn't that..."

"Sirius Black was innocent of the crimes laid against him." Daphne stated unequivocally. "Furthermore, he was never tried. Just tossed straight into Azkaban."

Eleanor scowled. She'd had to flee her Norwegian homeland, barely in her teens, to escape such things happening. After the Grindelwald War was finally over, there had been many who had hunted for 'Collaborators'... often including those who were nothing of the sort. To hear that it had happened here...

Dragging her thoughts back to the present, Eleanor decided to look into the brewing situation with young Mister Potter. If what Daphne told her was true, he would become one of the most politically powerful entities in the Magical World. Combine that with his fame already accrued...

"Is he _aware _of the power he'll wield when he comes of age?"

Daphne scowled now, something that her mother had rarely seen. "He's barely aware of _anything._ For the first ten years of his life, he lived with his magic _hating_, muggle relatives." A tear escaped her eye. "We're still discovering just how badly those... _monsters, _treated and neglected him." Her eyes turned to Tracy. "Did you notice his clothes; those not part of the school uniform? Those were the cast-off from his cousin, who he described as a 'baby Killer Whale, only nowhere near as cute or friendly'." More tears were beginning to run down her cheeks. "He hasn't said, but it's clear he was beaten, a... a... ab..."

Eleanor cut her off by wrapping her arms around her, a rare physical display of affection in their normally reserved family. Astoria hugged her from the side, hurting both for her big sister and for the young man that had clearly caught her heart. Idly she wondered what having Harry Potter as a surrogate big brother would be like...

Tracy was stood to the side, slightly dazed as she mental re-assessed everything she knew of Harry Potter. It had been hard for her to reconcile what she saw of him in classes with what was spouted in the Slytherin Common Room and in the Daily Prophet. Sure, some of it must have been Draco's hatred of Harry, but still, surely there had been a grain of truth? Apparently not, and hearing the respect, admiration, and affection that Daphne, someone _she _respected and admired, clearly had for him threw that into doubt.

After a moment longer Eleanor eased back, looking her nearly adult daughter in the eye. "Daphne... I am proud of you. You've always strived to be the best you could be. And so I'll allow you to handle this. Just answer me this: Do you love him?"

Tracy was stunned once more when Daphne beamed in response. "Yes, I do mother."

-HP-

Susan smiled as she looked around the gathered guests. The Gangers had worked wonders, pulling lawn chairs and small tables out of seemingly nowhere, and then arranging everything so that nowhere was cramped or tight.

Nathan Granger was stood over the barbeque itself, a bottle of beer – Newcastle Brown – in one hand and a set of tongs in the other. He was tending to the full grill that was suspended over the charcoal briquettes while talking with their former professor Lupin. Susan had been pleased to see him once more; He had been one of their best teachers to date, and certainly the best Defence Professor. He looked a little haggard and worn, but Susan understood. Harry was with the two men he had left as father figures, clearly watching and learning how Nathan cooked. Susan was sure that he intended to do his own barbies in the future. She had a small chuckle as she remember the expression on the Professors face when he saw Harry: Clearly he had not known beforehand that Harry was staying here. The young auror with him had let her jaw hang low. The smile faded a little as she remembered the initial talk between them: It had taken Harry, Hermione and Professor McGonagall to talk them out of telling Dumbledore that he was here...

_*...Earlier...*_

"Harry... what are you doing here?" Remus asked with concern. "Shouldn't you be at home with your family?"

Harry had stilled before facing the last remaining Marauder. "Moony... I will never set foot in Privett Drive willingly again. My family is here, not there."

Remus had shifted uncomfortably. "But surely... I mean..."

Harry cut him off. "How much do you know of how I was treated there?" His eyes jumped to Tonks. "What about you Tonks? How much did you see of how I lived there?" Unknown to Harry, both the elder Grangers had turned to listen to the discussion.

Tonk's looked at him steadily, though her cheeks were paling. "Do you really think I had time to spend watching over you? When we got you last year was the first time I've even laid eyes on that house."

Remus was looking uneasy. "The same for me Harry. Dumbeldore's had me trying to gauge the mood of the werewolf packs in Britain. I offered, several times, to take a night-shift, but he always said that he had others who could." A worried gleam entered his eyes. "Harry... are you saying that they..."

Harry snorted. "Mistreated me? Starved me? That, and more. Tonks, you remember how clean it was inside?" Tonks nodded: She'd commented on the almost sterile environment within Four Privett Drive at the time. It hadn't felt... _ natural _to her.

"Well, I can tell you both that none of my relatives ever lifted a finger to get it that way."

Hermione moved up to his side, looking sharply at the older pair. "I have to question why Dumbledore has guards at the Dursleys at all. Isn't there supposed to be neigh impenetrable wards there to 'protect' Harry already?"

Both the older two looked at each other, eyes wide. It was clear that they had never looked at things quite that way before.

"Well, I can tell you both right now, those supposed 'Blood Wards' clearly don't work all that well, if two Dememtors can get to me. And they certainly don't protect me from my relatives." He frowned before his eyes hardened. "And just whose idea was it for you guys to confront Uncle Vernon at Kings Cross?"

Remus gulped. "Dumbledore suggested that we make sure that your relatives knew to give you time to grieve..."

"And the thought that they should have know that themselves didn't occur to any of you?" Harry snarked. "Knowing my uncle like I do, I expect he had some harsh words for you?"

Both nodded, scowls forming as they recalled the encounter. Vernon Dursley had certainly not made any friends with them. Remus had walked away from that with a really bad churning in his gut. He'd never met the man before, and after that one meeting, had been glad he hadn't. He'd also been uneasy about the idea of Harry going back to the man's house. He had trouble seeing such a person treating Harry with loving care. As for Tonks, she'd been reminded of the Pure-blood bigots she'd had to deal with in her duties, as well as the toadies in the upper levels of the Ministry. She'd planned to do some quiet snooping around Privett Drive herself afterwards, but with everything that was going on she'd not had the time.

"Well, I can reveal that once we got back to the house, he'd have been much, much worse with me."

Both adults had pale, eyes wide. The elder Grangers had looked at each other with narrowed eyes. Their half-formed plans to punish the Dursleys were pushed up to a much higher importance.

As Hermione had slid an arm around him, Harry had breathed deeply to calm down. "Look, I never was, and never will be, welcome or wanted in that house. I'd much rather have nothing to do with them ever again. Here I'm wanted and welcomed." He hugged Hermione tight to his side for a moment.

Tonks had to ask though. "But Dumbledore..."

"...Has no authority to dictate where I spend my days outside of Hogwarts!" Harry snapped, cutting her off. McGonagall started to make her way over at his raised voice, having been listening herself... along with nearly everyone else. "I have serious doubts about that old fool right now. Frankly, I'd doubt him if he said water was wet right now!"

Tonks was stunned, and Remus was pale. "But... but... he's Albus Dumbledore!" Tonks began. "He's a great wizard..." Her voice trailed off, an unsure note in her tone.

Harry sighed. "I used to think so myself, three years ago. But... I've learned about the man behind the name. And he's just as flawed as the rest of us."

"The only difference is, when he makes a mistake, people suffer." McGongall stepped into the discussion, startling them. Remus looked at her shrewdly; McGonagall was known as Albus' biggest supporter.

"I've disagreed with him on several things, but he's convinced that only he knows what's best for everyone." The elderly Professor continued. "He no longer listens to anyone's opinions or objections. Case in point; his continued belief that young Mister Malfoy can be redeemed."

Harry snorted in disgust, but before he could say anything Hermione beat him to it. "He's not going to punish that slimy little toe-rag?" She half screeched.

"Rest assured Miss Granger, the rest of us will!" McGonagall told her, which seemed to mollify the younger witch somewhat.

Harry looked once more at Remus. "It was his choice that put me with the Dursleys Moony. Did you know them before?"

Moony hung his head. "No Harry, I only knew _of _them. Lily was... not kind, in her descriptions. When I learned of your placement, I questioned Albus repeatedly, but he always said you were safe and well. He... discouraged me from trying to contact you."

Harry sighed in resignation. "As ever, making decisions without once considering what I wanted or felt."

-HP-

After their initial talk, the two Order members had mingled with the others freely, and the younger Tonks had quickly been able to relate to the other young witches.

On the lawn nearby Mrs Greengrass sat next to Fleur Delacour, conversing while picking over the salad. Hermione had been a little concerned about inviting the stunning part-veela witch, due to her Allure. However only Nathan had been affected at all, and even then only a little after first being introduced. Despite having no magic, his feelings for his wife were strong enough to overcome Fleurs' charms... though Susan had seen Mrs Granger kick him lightly in the ankle to get his attention off the younger woman. Fleur herself had been brimming over with enthusiasm in her greeting of both Harry and Hermione, while at the same apologising for Bill Weasley not being able to attend: He was on the rota as the Day's Curse Breaker at Gringotts.

Her grin threatened to split her face when her eyes moved over to where Neville and Hannah stood, a little away from the others, facing each other as they talked. Susan just knew that the two of them were treating this as a first date. Hannah had been blushing so red her cheeks resembled tomatoes when she told Susan about her visit to Longbottom Manor... and the surprising talk she had with her father yesterday morning. He had received an owl from Madam Longbottom, inquiring about the possibility of a Betrothal Contract between herself and Neville! Her father Lord Abbott wanted her opinion on the matter; it was her life in question. Apparently tomorrow the two would meet to discuss the wording of the contract before filing it with the Ministry and Gringotts on Monday.

Susan wished the two of them every luck and happiness. There had been a time last year when she had considered Neville as a suitor, though she knew that she would never be the Lady of the family. The laws forced her into one of two routes, both as a 'second' wife. However it had been clear that he had been crushing after Ginny Weasley... a girl that Susan just could not like. She could not put her finger on any one thing about the younger redhead that caused this reaction. Certainly her flirtatious nature and hair-trigger temper were negatives, as was the possessive streak she appeared to have.

There were also the looks she sent towards Harry and Hermione, each different...

Girlish laughter turned her attention away from her dark thoughts and to the other side of the table. Hermione and Daphne were sat either side of Astoria, and the younger blond was laughing with the two older witches as the Auror introduced as Tonks altered her appearance at will. Even Tracy was grinning at the antic of the metamorphmagus. It was warming to see both her studious friends laugh freely. Daphne had rarely even smiled, and never when others from her house were around apart from Tracy or her sister. Hermione had often been consumed by her concern for Harry.

Behind her, in the conservatory add-on to the back of the house, Emma Granger, Amelia Bones and Professor McGonagall sat together, talking softly over their tea. Emma had refused to go into what she had learned about Harry's former living conditions, citing that it would not do to spoil such a wonderful day with such darkness. Instead the focus was more on Harry's departed mother Lily, and her husband James Potter. Both witches had been mentors to them both, McGonagall in school as their Head of House, Amelia as a then Senior Auror after they had graduated and joined up to combat Voldemort. Emma wished she could have met such a remarkable woman. From what was said about her, she could just tell that they would have gotten along splendidly.

Harry's father struck her as an example of what someone could do when they set their mind to it. He had entered Hogwarts a touch arrogant. Not deliberately cruel or obnoxious, but the quieter, more justified arrogance that comes from knowing you are good at something. In James Potter's case, it had been intelligence and craftiness. He had naturally been a leader. He had been doted on a little by his parents, and as he went through Hogwarts he had no shortage of young women all but throwing themselves at him. Fortunately, he'd not let his desirability go to his head... too much. He'd also stayed true to his close friends, Remus and Sirius.

He had met his match in Lily however. He'd gone home after Fifth year deep in thought. On his return James Potter had been a changed young man, without the arrogance of his earlier years, but with greater compassion and honour. He and Lily had finally started dating Christmas that year, and from then on he had no other.

As the three women moved outside after her husband's call, Emma's eyes came to rest on Harry. How much like his father would he have been had fate been kinder to him, she wondered. Certainly there was a lot of his mother in him, beyond the eyes. But was there more of his father in him?

Nathan had outdone himself, cooking enough for everyone and for a range of palettes. She hadn't even needed to mention the 'encouragement' she had thought of. Though now she was leaning towards doing the same as a 'reward'. She couldn't stop the smile that formed on her face. Eleanor Greengrass was the only one who noticed, and smiled herself; she knew that smile, and what it meant.

It was an eye opening experience for all the magically raised there. They had all passed through Hogwarts at one point or another, and so had become accustomed to the food provided there. Most meals provided in bars followed the same trend as Hogwarts, traditionally roasted meats and softened greens, deep fried potatoes and breakfasts.

What was laid out before them now were fresh, crisp greens and boiled potatoes, with not a trace of oil or lard to be seen. There were the traditional Barbeque meats, homemade kebabs and even a large medium-rare steak, cooked especially for Remus, who had admitted that with his condition, he'd become more partial to lightly cooked meats. Sauces were in those funny plastic bottles rather than bowls, and instead of jugs of wine or water, there were bottles of fizzy drink and squash, with a bottle of wine and beers for the adults.

Eleanor was at first hesitant to sit next to a known werewolf, but Remus was so unfailingly polite and softly spoken that she couldn't help but feel at ease with him. Early on Emma asked him about James, wanting some clarification on the change he underwent after fifth year. Eleanor couldn't help but notice the way Harry perked up, eagerly listening. Although at first he was reluctant, quickly the former professor was laughing with them as he regaled them all with the pranks the four of them had pulled in the past. McGonagall added an extra viewpoint onto those events, and when pressed had admitted that she had found them very funny even back then. She also revealed that most of those pranked in those last two years were either open supporters of Voldemort – this being before he showed his true colours – or bullies. In fact most of their 'victims' over the years had been bullies and snobs: James and Sirius may have been purebloods themselves, but they both had recognised that it was nothing worth trumpeting. And there was nothing quite as amusing as seeing an arrogant blowhard's balloon popped.

Emma had seen the expressions on both her daughter's and Harry's faces alter as the tale went on. Hermione had often described pranking as a form of bullying, to which Remus agreed that if done the wrong way, it was. It was a fine line between the two, one which, sadly, the Marauders had crossed a time or two. But they had always apologised to those affected afterwards if that happened.

Except when the victim was Snape. None of them liked the greasy haired, vindictive man.

Harry however had lost a shadow from his eyes, as if hearing about his father's maturation had cleared a doubt from him. Remus had looked directly at him when he talked about Snape, to which Harry had simply nodded. Susan, seeing that gesture, had thought back to what Harry had told them about his 'Remedial Potions' lessons with Snape, and what he'd seen the one time he had sneaked a look into the pensieve.

Susan found herself staying mostly quiet, watching the others interact. She saw her auntie talking earnestly with both the elder Grangers, Mrs Greengrass listening in with an interested, though thoughtful expression. From the looks on their faces, the topic was a serious one.

The Greengrass sisters were off two one side, and from their faces, little Astoria was giving her big sister a little ribbing, given the blush in Daphne's cheeks and the grin Astoria was wearing. Tracy was with them, smirking at her former housemate but occasionally she would looked towards Harry with an unreadable expression. Harry himself was speaking with Remus, and Susan could easily tell they were both grieving for their loss... Harry's father and Godfather.

As she watched the two parted, Professor Lupin heading over to where Auror Tonks was sitting with Hermione. From the gesticulation, Hermione was explaining something to the pink-haired Auror. Harry, after a moment's hesitation, moved one of the cooked burgers onto his plate before moving to sit beside her at the table. "You okay Susan?" He asked softly.

"I'm fine Harry." She smiled. "Just taking in the mood."

Harry smiled back. "Yeah. Certainly more relaxed than..." He seemed to struggle to say something, then shrugged. "...The Order's place." His face darkened.

"Thinking about your aunt and uncle again?" She asked softly, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. Across the patio, both Hermione and Daphne looked towards them with confused but troubled looks. After a moment, having seen that he was being tended, they turned back to their own discussions, but kept an eye on him.

Harry sighed before relaxing slowly. "I try not to..." He said quietly. "Mostly I just don't ever want to see them again. But..." He raised his eyes to meet Susan's concerned look. Within those green depths, Susan was startled to recognise anger and fear.

"They can't hurt you any more Harry..." She slid her hand across his shoulders to hug him to her, closing her own eyes to stop the tears that were starting to threaten. "...And they will pay for what they did. I promise you that!"

Harry smiled lightly. "Thanks Susan."

Easing back after a few more moments, she smiled at him. "Now eat your food Harry."

"Yes dear." He grinned back before turning his attention to his plate, missing the look of love and amusement in her grey eyes.

* * *

A/N: We'll leave them three for now. Next time we have the evening after, with a famous movie, Harry securing some allies, and an interesting development for the girls.

Just a couple of notes: I'm not ignoring the Fleur/Bill relationship. There is a plan to deal with that. It won't be seen for a bit, but there is a plan. Same with the Dursleys. Retribution is coming.

And I promise, we'll get to the will readings as fast as we can!


	16. Exploring Stars and Feelings

**A/N: **Wasn't going to have an A/N (after all the trouble I've had with them!) But I have to say a big 'THANK YOU!' to **'Robst'** for providing the workaround to the error that was stopping me from updating this story in his latest chapter. Seriously, go read some of his work!

* * *

By the time evening rolled round, everyone was stuffed. Nathan had cooked such a wondrous spread that no one felt like eating anything for an evening meal. It was McGonagall who was the first to beg forgiveness to depart. She had a lot of things to do over the next couple of days, mainly regarding the next school term and the results from the OWL exams. At the mention of the OWL's, Hermione almost started to hyperventilate, before Harry cut her off with a kiss. Those in the know smiled and bade them no mind. Madam Bones decided that it was a good time for her to return home as well; the paperwork was never done. When Tonks made to escort her Amelia told her that was not necessary. Tonks argued half-heartedly, before giving in and sinking back into her chair with obvious relief.

After Amelia had departed, Hermione mentioned that it was a Granger tradition to spend Saturday evening watching a movie together. While the other teens perked up at this, Eleanor turned to her daughters and Tracy. "Astoria, Tracy..." She started, but her younger daughter spoke up.

"Aww, can't we stay?" She asked, almost whinnied. "I want to see this muggle movie thing."

Eleanor looked at her fondly, but firmly. "Now dear, you know that I don't want you alone on the Knight Bus yet..."

Tonks, having seen the interactions between Harry, Hermione and the Greengrasses, spoke up. "I can bring her home Ma'am."

Eleanor looked the young Auror over. She'd shed her official robes early on, but there was a steady expression on her face. After a moment she sighed. "Very well. I'm putting my daughter care in your hands tonight Auror Tonks."

Even as Tonks nodded in understanding, Astoria was wrapping her in a tight hug. "Thanks Mum!"

Tracy looked between the others teens and her. "I'd like to stay too Mrs Greengrass. Besides..." She smiled a little. "... I was going to go out for bit afterwards. I can summon the Knight Bus just as easily here as at Greengrass Manor."

Eleanor nodded in understanding. "Then I'll see you later this evening Astoria. Daphne..." After a family hug, the elder Greengrass woman walked out, a tear threatening to fall from her eye. _'My daughter's growing up...'_

Back inside Hermione looked over those left. "Are you all staying?" After a round of nods, she grinned before moving towards the cabinet where her family kept the tapes they had recorded or bought, where her mother was already stood. The two conferred as they looked over the contents, pulling out the drawers to read the labels.

After her third glance at him, Harry sighed. "Whatever you decide is fine Hermione."

Both Hermione and Emma looked at him now. "Surely you have a preference?" Emma asked.

"Harry shrugged. "How can I, having never seen one properly before? I only managed to sneak short peeks at the Durlseys… when they didn't just throw me in the cupboard."

Everyone looked at him with a mixture of shock and pity for a few moments, before Hermione shook herself and half-whispered something to her mother. Emma considered her daughter for a moment, spoke quietly back before she pushed the open drawer closed and reached for a gold and black box. Hermione moved to the centre of the living room and faced the others while Emma walked towards the TV.

"Okay, we'll watch something that has had profound impact on muggle culture. People are more likely to believe in magic than think that anyone's _not_ seen this film."

Harry frowned, trying to think of which film she might be talking about. Meanwhile she continued speaking.

"Now, I gather that the magical world has almost nothing like this." Tonks and Fleur nodded. "Theatre?" At a second set of nods, Hermione relaxed. "Then just remember: this is a more advanced form of theatre. I'll explain everything later or another day. But for now, just sit back and enjoy the story." With that she moved to where Harry, Susan and Daphne were sat on the three seater sofa. Both Tonks and Fleur had looked strangely at them when they sat together, the two girls cuddling into his side as he wrapped an arm round each. As Emma walked back from the TV with the remotes, Hermione snagged a cushion and sat down on the floor, leaning back against Harry's legs. Almost as soon as she was settled an orange ball of fluff moved across and curled up on her lap. Crookshanks knew when it was movie time.

As she walked over, Emma took note of the way the kids had arranged themselves. Astoria had copied Hermione, sat cross-legged on a cushion. Neville and Hannah were cuddled up on the two-seater sofa, while Tonks and Fleur had the armchairs. Nathan was fetching a couple of chairs from the dining room for the three older adults.

Emma couldn't help but notice the way that the two older witches were looking at Harry, her daughter, Susan and Daphne. Tonks still had a 'what the hell?' expression on her face, but that was being overcome by a mixture of happiness and cheer, with a look in her eyes that made Emma suspect that some light-hearted teasing was in store for the Quad, as she had started to think of them. It was nice change, as when she'd arrived Tonks had been rather down, only a few steps above distraught. Understandable, as she'd confided that Sirius, Harry's deceased godfather, had been her favourite cousin, a kind of surrogate uncle/big brother.

Fleur Delacour however... she was looking at them in a very different way. Emma had been stunned to finally meet the former Beauxbatons student and Tri-Wizard champion. Hermione had included a little about the other champions in her letters home over that year. She had mentioned that Fleur was considered beautiful, but Hermione had clearly understated things, a lot! Fleur had the perfect hourglass figure that many women tried to obtain, and men lusted for. Her waist must have been at least three inches narrower than her hips or shoulders, maybe four. Long, silvery blond hair hung down almost to her hips, with delicate features that gave her an elegant beauty.

Unlike other French beauties however, Fleur was also generously gifted in the bust line. From what Emma could tell, she was very similarly endowed to how Hermione was now, but with that taller, slimmer body and narrow waist, looked significantly more so. She'd been polite, though a little haughty at first regarding the food. Her expression and manner had changed greatly when she actually saw the spread. Knowing that a native of France would be visiting – and remembering what Hermione had said about her obvious disdain for traditional English food as served at Hogwarts – Emma had looked through their fridge for suitable fare. Later on Fleur had admitted her disdain had mainly been a reflexive defensive screen... although she was not found of the greasy, deep fried servings anyway. Emma could sympathise: She wasn't keen on deep-fried herself.

Now though, Fleur was looking at Harry with an... odd, expression. She seemed almost drawn to him... but unsure, worry entering her eyes when she looked towards either Hermione, Susan or Daphne. It was clear that she was trying to fight off this strange compulsion, but her eyes seemed to drift towards him all by their own. It was a lot like what would happen with unattached men around her, according to Hermione. A primal part of men's minds reacted to an Allure that Veela and part-Veela unconsciously projected.

Then the opening strands of world-recognised music blared forth, snapping the nearly twenty-year-old witch's attention to the screen as the title rolled. Tonks' eyes widened at the sight: it was clear that she had at least heard of this famous movie. Emma smiled at she recalled that young Tonks' had said that her father was like Hermione, muggleborn. He probably got to see it when it appeared in the cinemas for the first time in 1977.

Having seen 'Star Wars' so many times herself, Emma indulged herself and paid more attention to the expressions on the faces of those who had been magically raised. Neville's jaw just kept on dropping lower and lower during that famous introduction of the Star Destroyer, as its hull just seemed to keep on going and going. Other events, such as Vader's introduction and Alderaans destruction, prompted shocked reactions that reminded her of her own, all those years ago.

As the movie progressed, Emma looked towards Harry a lot, as many of the story elements mirrored his own life. At least, for the moment, he was simply immersing himself in the tale. It likely helped that both Susan and Daphne burrowed into his sides at points.

As the credits began to roll at the end they all shifted, stretching. Neville grinned at Hermione as Emma stopped the tape. "That was brilliant Hermione!" Emma smiled when she saw her daughter duck her head, trying to hide the light blush on her cheeks.

"Thanks. We'll watch the next two some other time."

Hannah looked at her with wide eyes. "There's another two?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, they made a trilogy. And there're all the other films we have on tape."

Astoria yawned before anything else could be said, prompting Tonks to stand up. "Okay young lady, time for you to head home."

"Awww." The young blonde whined, before she grinned and enveloped her sister in a tight hug. "Thanks for inviting me. It was great being here!"

"You're family Astoria." It was Harry who answered, surprising them all. "Maybe not by blood or officially, but you are family."

As her little sister threw her arms around an embarrassed Harry, Daphne shared a knowing, significant look and a pleased giggle with Susan as Tonks walked over, pulling her Auror robes on.

"Thanks for inviting me guys." She smiled lightly, a touch of sadness in the corner of her eyes. "I swear Molly's getting worse with her smothering."

Harry and Hermione shared a worried look. "How are things at the Burrow?" The topic of the absent Weasleys just had not come up during the day.

Tonks sighed. "Ron's been sulking... at least when he's not stuffing his face. How can you stand being sat near him at Hogwarts? Molly's been muttering a lot, something to do with you Harry I think... when she's not trying to get me hitched with either Bill or Charlie." She shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, their great guys, but... not for me."

Hermione looked over to where Fleur was exchanging words with her parents. "I thought Bill was dating Fleur?"

Tonks made a face; with her metamorph skills it was more impressive than anyone else's. "Yeah, he is, but neither Molly nor Ginny accepts it. There's been some nasty sounding arguments between her and Molly, while Ginny's been calling her 'Phelm' behind her back." Tonks appeared ready to add more but Fleur was walking over, so she just gently escorted Astoria towards the front door.

"Zhank you both. It iz nice to relax once in a while, Non?" She smiled lightly at both, though they noticed that she appeared to be looking anywhere but Harry.

Hermione pulled her into a hug. "It's always nice to see you Fleur." After a moment Fleur returned the hug, before facing Harry. Her eyes were still off to one side.

Harry, feeling a little annoyed at her evasion – it smacked a little too much of the evasion that Dumbledore had been doing the year past – cleared his throat. "Fleur... look at me." He said firmly, but gently.

Her blue-grey eyes jumped to meet his. Watching her closely, Hermione spotted the flush that entered the French beauties cheeks, the slight gasp that escaped her lips. Harry noticed her eyes widen... and within him he felt a small lurch. Besides him, Hermione felt something settle within her. It wasn't uncomfortable, just... odd.

"Urg... Sorry Harry. Itz... Veela are zenzertive to a changed aura... Yourz has since we last met." She glanced at the clock, an alarmed look on her face. Somehow, both Harry and Hermione knew it was faked. "I must go." And with that she quickly slipped out the door, cutting ahead of Remus. The older wizard paused, his eyes widening a little as he watched the silvery-blond haired young woman almost run down the front path. Turning back he walked over to Harry with a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

"What did you say to her Harry?" He asked lightly.

Harry and Hermione exchanged puzzled looks. "I just asked her to look at me. She was acting like Dumbledore this last year." He frowned. "When she actually did though, she seemed... startled."

Remus chuckled softly. "Well, I don't claim to be an expert, but I can tell you she was... aroused, when she left."

Both teen's eyes bugged out. "Huh?" Was all Harry could muster. Hermione's mouth just hung.

"I could smell it." Remus tapped his nose, a playful, if slightly sad look in his eye. "A benefit of being what I am... marginally improved senses."

While Harry was still trying to come to terms with this, Hermione was setting a mental reminder to look up Veela's again... specifically regarding their interactions with wizards and auras. It was only when Neville and Hannah moved up that Harry's brain re-engaged.

"We had a great time Harry. Thank you Hermione. You have a brilliant home." Hermione flushed at the praise as Neville turned to Harry. "Harry? About next year and the DA... are you sure you want me helping?" A hint of the old Neville was still there.

"Positive. You were still standing alongside me at the end, even with no wand and a broken nose." Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione to reassure her that he knew she would have been there too, had she not been struck down. "We're going to be doing more too, not just learning spells but also how to fight. In fact..." He glanced towards the others who had gathered round them. "... If we can sort some things out, would you be willing to attend sessions over the rest of the holiday?"

Neville looked at him solemnly for a moment, before nodding. "As long as Hannah can attend too."

This response prompted a smile and a kiss to the cheek from the blond Hufflepuff besides him.

Harry just grinned. "I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't."

The gathered teens chuckled, with Susan whispering "Prat." In his ear as she kissed his cheek. Harry, turning to face her, spotted one face not beaming. "You're welcome too Tracy."

Tracy looked stunned, eyes wide in shock. "I... er... Why?"

"You're Daphne's friend. That's enough." Daphne, unable to reach him to kiss him, had to settle with a squeeze of his shoulder.

A light flush suffused Tracy's cheeks. "...Thanks, Harry." She half whispered before leaning in for a surprising hug. Harry reacted automatically, holding her lightly. After a moment she began to draw back and he allowed her to step out of his embrace and out the door. The other guests followed her after a few seconds.

Hermione noticed that Daphne's eyes were wide, staring after her former housemate. "Daphne?"

The blonde turned to regard her close friend. "That's the first time she's shown affection for a boy... ever." She lowered her voice to a bare whisper. "I was starting to wonder if she... was... you know..."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I see. Not that there's anything wrong with being... that way..." She couldn't help the flush in her cheeks. While she held no prejudce, acknowledging even the idea openly was... slightly uncomfortable.

Daphne understood what she was trying to say, even if it ran counter to some of the upbringing she'd had. "No, no there isn't really is there? I was just... worried what would happen if even the rumour..." Shaking herself, she smiled at Hermione before they both turned to assist Emma and Nathan tiding up. Internally however, she was thinking hard. Her parents weren't quite as strict about the 'Pure-Blood' values as others, but the idea of an intimate relationship between women, without a man involved in some way, had been to a degree repulsed.

After the third yawn from Harry, Emma turned to the four of them. "Okay, you four head up to bed now. We'll be done in a bit." She flashed a smile at her husband, who looked at her oddly for a second before a grin started to spread across his face. Hermione, seeing the looks, was quick to draw the others up the stairs.

It was at the door to the upstairs lounge, now Harry's room, that he paused to voice something he'd noticed. "Hermione... about the film..."

Hermione gently patted his arm. "I know Harry. But I hope you take away the important lesson." At his confused look, she looked him in the eye. "Don't ever give up."

After a moment he nodded slowly. Turning to Daphne, he leaned forward. "Good night." He whispered before gently kissing her, before repeating the action with Susan and Hermione. He managed to contain the grin until after he shut the door on their blissful, slightly dazed expressions.

As they walked across the landing, Daphne looked at Hermione keenly. Sensing her regard, Hermione turned her eyes to meet hers. "What?" At first it looked like Daphne wouldn't respond, but then she sighed.

"Before he kissed you... did you, feel, anything?"

Hermione frowned, thinking back. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, but she realised that while Harry had been kissing Susan and Daphne, she _had felt_ _something_ in her lips... like someone was kissing her. It was weaker, softer...

"...like an echo..." She murmured.

Daphne nodded slowly. "I've noticed the same thing before now."

Susan had a thoughtful look on her face. "Now you mention it... I sensed it too." She looked up to the other two, pale grey eyes wide. "What does it mean?"

Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip, thinking. "I think that... what we did... it had more side-effects than..." she waved a hand towards her breasts. "Just what it means... I don't know."

Daphne looked between them, glanced towards Harry's closed door before her eyes firmed. "Hermione... can we try something?" She asked quietly, tentatively. She sounded like she was working up the nerve to try something potentially dangerous.

Hermione nodded slowly, wondering just what she meant, when Daphne suddenly leaned forwards and pressed her lips to her own hurridly. Startled, Hermione froze, mouth slightly parted. Daphne's tongue traced the gap, but didn't invade. Hermione relaxed after a couple of seconds, and the pair of them deepened the kiss lightly, hands resting on each others hips almost tentively.

Susan, stood to the side, watched as the two of them in slack jawed amazement. Daphne's actions were so... unexpected! There had always been half-rumours about two lonely wives spending intimate time together, but it was _never_ spoken of openly. As her shock faded, a tingling in her lips prompted her to raise a hand to them... only for her to gasp again when a second tingle started between her legs.

When the same tingle started in Hermione and Daphne the two froze, before pulling apart sharply, faces flushed bright red. Hermione had to take a minute to compose herself to speak. "W... What was that all about?" She asked shakily. She had known, as they all had, that they would be attracted to each other while curing Harry. They had also expected and accepted the sisterly feelings they now shared. But physical attraction afterwards... that hadn't been expected. Not at all!

In response Daphne looked towards Susan, who was still brushing her lips with her fingers. When she realised that the other two were looking at her, she blushed but nodded to the unspoken query.

Hermione sighed. "Well... something else we're going to have to think about... and get used too." Both Susan and Daphne nodded before they turned towards the spare bedroom they shared, though Hermione noted that they walked a little further apart than normal.

* * *

Across the country one Ginny Weasley laid upon her bed in the Burrow, her forehead creased into a frown while silent tears slipped down her cheeks. The rest of the house was asleep, thank Merlin.

'_Has my whole life been a lie? Have I been set up from infancy? Why would she do that?'_

Ever since she'd gotten back from Hogwarts Ginny had been depressed. Harry's rejection of her had hurt, badly. The angry voice in her head had yelled that it was that bushy-haired bookworm mud-bloods fault, but Ginny was trying to push it aside. She'd let it out the night before they left the school, and a string of insults towards Hermione had escaped her lips. She'd been stunned herself when 'Mud-blood' had emerged, but what had really shock her was when someone gasped at her words. Looking over she had seen Neville looking at her with a mixture of horror and revulsion, with a touch of disappointment and regret.

It had been that look on the normally pleasant Neville's face that had made her realise what she was saying. She'd tried to rein it in, but he'd already gone. Despairing, she had cried herself to sleep that night.

Ever since getting back, she'd locked herself in her room, trying to unravel her mind. Why had she cursed Hermione like that? Why did she hate her so, and desire Harry so badly it hurt? Yes, he was her hero, saving her from the basilisk, but he'd never come for her afterwards. Didn't he know how things worked? The heroic prince saves the princess, and they both ride off into the sunset together. That's how things worked!

Forcing herself to look back, it had been around the start of her third year when the Voice had started speaking, whispering to her. It told her that Harry was hers, and that she should just take him. He just needed to have the truth presented to him, and he'd be in her arms forever.

However, Hermione had remained at his side, and she knew that the older witch would certainly defend her friend from unwanted advances. So she'd decided to show him that she was desirable, that he would be lucky to have her. Get him hooked on her, so that once she approached, he'd welcome her willingly.

But… it hadn't worked. He'd been blinded by Cho. Ginny had pushed herself so hard during the DA to gain his attention, as well as in Quidditch. But he hardly noticed.

If she was totally honest with herself, Ginny was slightly scared of him. His mood swings were hard to adjust to, and his reclusive nature was certainly not what she desired. She'd accepted that she liked attention, bathed in it, the adoration from others. Was it just her, or a result of being the only girl in a family with six older brothers? She didn't know.

Lately, the Voice had quietened down, become weaker. Ginny was slightly curious as to why, but frankly had been too relieved to care that much.

But the other day, something had happened that had grabbed her attention.

She'd come down to get a drink, but had paused in the doorway. Her brother Ron was sat at the table, stuffing his face on some small cakes while writing a letter… badly. She could see his messy writing with several crossing out. He seemed to be even more stupid and slow these days, regressing bit by bit back to an almost infant-like state each day.

Behind him was their mother, who had a tray of more cakes besides a basket. Ginny was about to step inside the kitchen, when Molly picked up her wand and dragged the tip along the counter edge. Ginny was just close enough to hear her mutter "Prewett Supreme"

A section of the counter had slid back, revealing a hidden compartment. From within Molly had withdrawn a bottle with a reddish tinted liquid, another with a pearly liquid. She poured a measure of the red-tinted liquid into a cup, then another of the pearly one. She placed the pearly filled bottle back in the drawer, before her hand moved to something else in there. Her hand came back with her finger and thumb pinching something red, which she dropped into the cup with the liquids. A stir latter she had smirked darkly, before pouring the mixture into a mixing bowl by the cakes.

"Can I have some more mum?" Ron asked plaintively.

"Hush Ronald. These are for Hermione, remember?" Molly had shushed him. "I've made them especially for her, remember?"

"Oh, yeah…" Ron had replied.

From the doorway Ginny had watched, wide eyed, as Molly had poured the icing she had been mixing onto the upper surfaces of the cakes, ensuring that each one was coated with it. A few waves of her wand had the icing set, and the remaining contents of the bowl vanished. The cakes had then been placed in the basket, which was sealed and shrunk.

"Have you finished that letter dear?" Molly had asked as she was pouring a second measure of the red-tinted potion. Another pinch of… something, black she thought, went into it before she added the potion to a tall glass of pumpkin juice.

"Ugh… yeah, yeah I'm done." Ron had jerked before scribbling his name on the bottom.

Ginny had retreated then, not wanting to get caught. Just what was going on? But she still heard her mother's next words.

"Good Boy Ronald. Now, why don't you take this glass of pumpkin juice up to your sister while you get your owl? And don't you drink it yourself!"

She tried to examine the hidden drawer that night, but Molly had been awake, pottering about the kitchen. Each night since there had been someone up, usually either Molly bustling about or Ron getting a 'midnight snack'… which for anyone else would have been a two course meal.

But finally, tonight, she'd gone down to find that everyone else was still asleep. Quickly she'd copied her mother's motions with her wand, whispering the password. She wanted answers!

As it had for her mother, the hidden cover slid away, revealing the contents. With a trembling hand she reached in and drew out the bottles. Holding them up to the light, she noted that while the red-tinted one was only a third full, the pearly one was barely used.

Then she noted the labels written on the side… in handwriting she'd seen often.

'_Snape's writing! What is my mum doing with potions mixed by that greasy git?'_

It was at that moment that she actually read the labels.

The red-tinted potion had 'Desire/Lust combination'. The pearly one had simply 'Jealousy'

Ginny was shocked so much she nearly dropped the bottles. Looking deeper, she saw another half-dozen full 'Desire/Lust' bottles… along with the same again empty ones. There were also many clear ones, with 'Loyalty' written on them. Some were empty. _'My God… Mum's been using potions on us! But…'_

Her eyes caught the tray at the front edge. There were five compartments, each filled with hairs. Two red, one black, one brown, and one silver. The labels beneath were in Molly's hand: 'Ronald', 'Ginny', 'Harry', 'Herm'e', 'D'dore'

Ginny felt her legs give out under her, and she barely managed to cling onto the counter to stop herself from falling to the floor. Dredging up all the fortitude and strength she had, she replaced the two bottles and pulled on the cover, which snapped back into place, leaving a perfectly smooth counter top. Feeling the tears form, she'd rushed back upstairs, any element of secrecy lost. Once back in her room she'd cried into her pillow, consciously rejecting the Harry Potter doll that had been her favourite cuddle partner.

She felt so betrayed, so hurt…

"_**Yes… it hurts doesn't it?"**_

The Voice came back in her head.

'_Go away.'_

"_**Ha! Go away? When it was you who invited me in?"**_

'_I never invited anyone into my head! Now leave me alone! You're a lie! A fabrication of all those lies!'_

"_**Hardly, my dear. Oh your 'dear' mother's potions strengthened me, but I've been here for years now…"**_

'_No! Get lost!'_

"_**Oh no, I'll be staying right here… after all, you welcomed me before, let me in…"**_

'_Never!'_

The Voice continued like she hadn't interrupted. _**"All those days of you pouring your soul into me… all I had to do was pour a little of mine back…"**_

'_I didn't ever…' _Ginny froze, eyes wide in horror.

"_**Yes… now you remember…"**_

'_Tom…'_

The voice now snarled, taking on a male tone.

"_**Tom Riddle is a name that no longer applies to me, wretch! I am, was, and always be, Lord Voldemort!"**_

'_Get out, Get Out!'_ "GET OUT!"

Ginny gasped for air, her breathing ragged. The Voice was silent.

Then there was a knock on the door. "Ginny, you alright?" Her father's voice came through the door before he eased it open, looking in on her.

Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "Daddy…"

Arthur Weasley was regarded by many as slow and easily duped. A man lacking a spine, easily distracted by his 'muggle obsession'. But he was not. He quickly stepped over to the bed, closing the door behind him, to sweep his daughter into his arms. Ginny burrowed into his neck sobbing as he held her.

After a few minutes she calmed a little, and Arthur allowed her to pull back a bit. "What is it?" He asked softly.

At first Ginny didn't speak, unsure as to how to tell him about Molly's meddling. And the whole business of having Voldemort in her head… Well, how does one explain that? In the end, she sighed before looking at him with redden eyes.

"Dad… I… I think I need to be examined at St. Mungos. We never… after first year…"

Arthur nodded slowly. He'd regretted not taking the time to ensure that his daughter was okay after her experience, but had trusted the Headmasters verdict. Molly had fully believed him, and had agreed that a visit to the hospital was unnecessary.

Ginny visibly steeled herself. "Dad… I think I've been… there's something left over from… then. In here." She pointed to her head. "And… I think…" She took a deep breath. "…I'm worried about what else may be wrong with me."

Arthur felt a headache come on. This was not turning out to be a good summer. Ron's decline was testing his patience, and with Molly fretting and worrying about Harry… and the uproar at the Ministry…

"First thing tomorrow, I'll take you to St. Mungos." He said softly. "I'll tell Molly that we're visiting the twins."

Ginny hugged him once more. "Thanks daddy."


	17. Darkness Approaches

**A/N:** Welcome back everyone. I know you're all champing at the bit for this, so lets get right into it.

**EDIT: **|This chapter has now been beta'ed.

* * *

The next morning Harry noted that the three witches were almost avoiding each other. While they didn't leave the room when another entered, they paused before fully stepping in, and kept their distance from each other. At first he wondered if there had been a fight between them, but the flushes he spotted on their cheeks dissuaded him of that notice. After a lazy morning, he decided to corner Hermione about it. He was missing the closeness from before.

"Hermione… why are you avoiding Susan and Daphne?"

Hermione stiffened, before flushing red. "I'm not…" She began...

"Yes you are." Her mother cut her off as she entered the kitchen. "I've noticed as well. You're not sharing the same space like you were." Her features shifted into one of sadness. "What happened? It was so nice to see you with close friends."

Hermione's blush was almost as red as Susan's hair now. "It's… embarrassing." She half whispered.

"How?" Emma prompted quietly.

Hermione glanced at Harry for a moment before speaking, realizing that neither would let her drop this. "We've noticed that when… one of us… kisses or is kissed by Harry… the other two feel... an echo, of it."

It was Harry's turn to flush, while Emma's eyebrow rose.

"Why?"

Hermione shrugged. "We have no idea, except that something else happened when we cured Harry of his curse."

Emma and Harry exchanged confused looks. "But why is this causing a problem now?"

Hermione's face was now rivalling beetroot; what could be seen behind her hair, which had fallen forwards when she tipped her head down. "Daphne… last night, decided to test if it was just Harry which caused it, or… if…"

"The same would happened if the two of you kissed." Emma finished.

Harry took a moment to think about what had just been said. "Oh…. Oohhhh!" His eyes' widened when he realized what must have happened. "Which two of you…" He stopped, clapping a hand over his mouth. He could not believe he had just asked that question out loud!

Hermione lifted her head to glare at him for voicing that, but the expression of shock and embarrassment on his face cheered her, to the point that she only lightly glared, a tiny smile lurking at the corners of her mouth. "Daphne… well, she took me by surprise."

Emma chuckled at the looks on both teens faces. "Was it a bad kiss?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think so, was a bit too shocked to really tell. But…" She trailed off, head dropping again. "…the rest of me started to enjoy it. Far too much."

While Harry goggled, Emma just sighed and patted her daughter's shoulder. "How did you expect to maintain a four-way relationship with the same guy?" She asked gently hoping that her own mixed feelings about this strange relationship were concealed. Paramount to Emma Granger was her daughter however, and she had decided to support her whatever she did in this matter, no matter her personal feelings.

Hermione shrugged. "I thought we'd end up feeling sisterly affection for each other. Not… outright lovers."

"Didn't you already become lovers when you cured Harry?" Hermione looked up sharply at her mother's question, before the wheels began to visibly turn in her head.

"I guess your right mum." She sighed. "But what now?"

Emma chuckled lightly. "Only you three can sort that out. But avoiding and denying the issue won't solve things." She looked closely at her daughter. "I'm not saying you three should start sharing a bed, or return to being lovers yet." A look of relief swept across Hermione's face as she continued. "But you have to talk with them about this."

Nodding in resignation, Hermione stood up and started walking towards the lounge, where Daphne and Susan were going through their old textbooks, looking for useful spells or charms that could be used to help them fight Voldemort's followers. She paused at the doorway.

"Harry? I think you should be involved as well."

Harry gulped audibly, but followed her. Emma smiled at her actions. '_Good call. He's going to be your husband someday, if I've read you two right, so include him in everything.'_

Harry and Hermione trooped into the lounge, Hermione hesitating for a moment before stepping in. Harry noticed that while both Susan and Daphne were sharing the room, they sat at almost opposite ends of it. As if they were trying to be as far away from each other as possible.

"Susan, Daphne..." Hermione called, prompting both to look up from the textbooks they had been reading. Harry noticed that Daphne was holding a book with a number of math symbols on the cover, while Susan held their Fifth year Charms textbook. He also noted that both blushed slightly when they looked up.

Hermione took a deep breath. "We need to... talk about, and move on from, our current..." She waved her free hand between them "...tension."

The other two looked at each other, and then nodded slowly. Setting her book aside, Susan turned to face Hermione. "Where do we start?"

Hermione flushed red as she sat on the sofa, Harry at her side. "I think... we have to start with, what you were thinking Daphne?" At her look Hermione pressed on. "Harry knows and so does mom. They... just cornered me about this..."

Daphne swore under her breath. "Okay... I uh..." She hesitated. After a few moments she started talking.

"I noticed it first last Monday I think. Harry, whenever you kiss..." Her cheeks went a shade redder. "...anyone of us, the other two feels an echo."

"Hermione already told me this." Harry cut in, but faltered at the hard look Daphne was giving him.

"Just let me explain mister! Anyway, I've been wondering, off and on for the last couple of days if that was just an effect from you, or if it would happen with us too."

Hermione shifted in her seat. "Okay, but why did you just... ambush, me?"

Daphne squirmed in her seat. "I... uh, it was a few things really. I mean, we talked about... you know, _alternative_ relationships, earlier." At his confused look Daphne felt she had to explain. "Homosexual relationships Harry."

Harry's eyes widened. "You mean... a man with another man?"

"Or a woman with a woman." Susan cut in. "It's something that we've both had instilled into us before Hogwarts. There's ... not a _taboo per se _regarding such... relationships, but it is most certainly frowned on." It was the redheads turn to flush bright red. "The generally expected relationship is a man and a woman, where they are only intimate with each other." She hesitated for a brief moment. "There _are _circumstances where two women together... _that way_... is, accepted, but it is _never _talked about openly. And in all those cases, the women in question would have to be involved with men, or even the same man."

Harry could see that this topic was causing all three witches plenty of embarrassment, especially Susan and Daphne. It was causing him plenty as well, and they hadn't even gone into detail yet!

Daphne appeared to have recovered some composure. "Harry, you'd just given us three wonderful kisses, and I could still feel the tingling in my lips." She flushed red for a moment, but pressed on. "As I said, I had been curious about that and with everything else... I realized that if I didn't bring it up then, when everything was in the forefront of my mind, I never would."

"I think, in the end, Hermione would have." Susan commented.

"WHAT?" Hermione yelped.

"You did not have the same upbringing we've had Hermione." Susan explained. "And remember, _you _were the one who suggested we share Harry in a long term relationship."

Hermione flushed bright red, but the look on her face showed that she was thinking hard. After a minute she nodded slowly. "I think you're right. It'd bug me not knowing what was going on."

"Like the other things going on between us?" Daphne commented.

Harry looked between the three of them. "Huh? Am I missing something here..."

The three witches looked at each other, questions in their eyes. After a moment both Susan and Daphne nodded hesitantly. Hermione faced him. _'He had to learn sooner or later, I suppose...'_

"Harry... when we cured you of that Curse... there were some... side effects."

Harry swallowed nervously as she spoke.

"Nothing serious that we've determined so far, but there are a few things. None of us..." Her hand waved towards the other two "...have been feeling any real sense of jealousy when you're with one of the others. Odd, don't you think?"

"How would I know?" Harry nervously answered. Hermione tipped her head to one side as she studied him.

"How about how you felt in Fourth year, when you were mooning over Cho... and you learned she was dating Cedric?"

Harry flushed, but nodded in understanding. _That,_ while he'd rather not have that brought up again, made sense.

"But we've not been feeling that." Hermione pressed on. "Also, there's the kissing thing we've mentioned." She hesitated for a moment. "Something happened to your scar..."

"What?" Harry was shocked, but then he remembered looking in the mirror lately, and it not being so distinctive. He normally tried to ignore it when he shaved or attempted to comb his hair.

Hermione nodded. "It emitted a shrieking noise, and a dark flame seemed to burn within it. Afterwards, it bleed a little, but now it has healed up like any normal cut would." She lifted a hand and moved aside the lock of hair that he tend to having hanging down to hide the scar in question. "It looks just like an old cut now. Deep and oddly shaped, but nothing magical or strange."

"Harry?" Susan was frowning slightly. "Have you, since... That Night... had any of those feelings or vision from He-Who... I mean, Vo... Volde..." She was unable to finish the name.

Harry frowned, thinking back. "Now you mention it, no, I haven't. No nightmares... at least, none that made my scar burn." His finger traced the scar in question.

Daphne was looking worried. "It seems your connection with him is gone Harry. But..." She shook her head in frustration. "We really need a pensieve to check memories. If the scream we heard when is the same as the one that diary you mentioned made..."

All three of the others were looking at her now. "What is it Daphne?" Susan asked softly.

Daphne shrugged. "I don't know, not really. I know there's _something_ that I've come across once that _might_ be what the diary was, but I can't recall the name of it. I recall it was listed as the darkest magic though."

"But what was it doing in Harry's scar?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Daphne looked at Hermione squarely. "Anyway, there's one more thing Harry..."

All three girls blushed bright red.

"What?" Harry was feeling lost again.

Hermione sighed. "Harry... what part of a woman's body do boys most talk about?"

Harry flushed bright red. But she noticed his eyes drop to her chest for a moment. She nodded in response.

"And what part of our bodies do you think girls most often wish they could change? Often... increase?" Harry's eyes widened as her cheeks turned Weasley red.

"You mean...?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. We've all had a... an increase in size." She met the other two's eyes. "Different amounts with each of us, but we've all gotten... larger."

Harry's eyes now had a glossy, dreamy look to them. "Oh..."

Susan giggled. "I think you broke him Hermione."

Despite her embarrassment, Hermione grinned. "I think it's more the thought of you with even bigger breasts before that's broken him Susan."

Harry spoke in a half daze. "Oh yours are brilliant too Hermione..." He then gasped as his eyes came back into focus, face paling.

Hermione smiled bashfully. "Thank you Harry."

For a couple of minutes they sat quietly. Eventually Daphne sighed. "So... how are we going to handle our mutual... attraction?"

Hermione sighed in reply. "In some ways, I guess it'll make things easier in the long run. As my mum pointed out, how did we expect to maintain a fair relationship with the same guy? If we're all intimate with each other, we're not going to be... left out, unless we chose to."

"It's just, getting used to the idea of being... that way." Susan said quietly.

"Technically we wouldn't be outright lesbians; we'd be bisexual." Hermione couldn't help but comment. "But avoiding each other is not going to solve anything."

Daphne sighed again. "You're right, as always. Let's just, take things slow, okay?"

Susan had a sudden urge to lighten the mood with a joke. "So... should I warn you when I get an urge to feel you up, or would you rather I just snog you?"

All four burst out laughing, breaking the tension. While they were not totally over the issue, they were moving forwards with it.

* * *

The rest of Sunday and the whole of Monday passed quietly, the four teens regaining their closeness. Emma noted that they seemed to draw a little closer together, now that the girls had accepted the fact that they were attracted to each other. Fortunately nothing major happened in the rest of the world, allowing them to focus on building their relationship dynamic.

Sadly it was not to last.

"OH MERLIN!"

Susan's startled, panicked yelp drew everyone's attention. "Susan... what is it?" Hermione asked, but the red-haired witched didn't respond, just stared at the Tuesday morning Daily Prophet she held with wide-eyed horror. Daphne, the closest, moved to wrap an arm round her while looking at the paper. Emma had just reached the pair when she exclaimed, "Death Eaters attacked the Bones Residence!"

Gasps resounded around the table. Both the elder Grangers had found Madam Bones to be a refreshing, engaging older woman. Her directness and sense of fair play had impressed them, as well as her convictions.

Harry however was really worried. Madam Bones was one of those most likely to be the next Minister of Magic, and the only one that Harry felt comfortable with. She'd tackle the Death Eaters seriously, making up for Fudge and his head-in-the-sand approach to things. Clearly Voldemort had decided to take her out... as they had feared.

Hermione, impatient with Daphne for not revealing more, reached out and pried the paper from Susan's unresisting fingers. The headline dominated the front page above a picture of a burning pile of rubble. Shrouded in the smoke above the burning manor the Dark Mark loomed, like a monster hidden in the mist.

'**_BONES FAMILY ATTACKED!'_**

'**_Bones Manor destroyed as attacks strike across Britain!'_**

'**_Last night a series of attacks by supposed Death Eaters were reported across the country. Aurors were dispatched to all locations, many being false alarms or innocent mistakes. However there were individuals, unidentified at this time, who were engaging in criminal acts and resisted the Auror forces._**

'**_During the peak of these nuisances, a group of persons unknown attacked Ossuary Manor, the ancestral home of the Ancient & Noble House of Bones. The first indication of this was the destruction of the wards in a violent manner. By the time Aurors were available to respond Bones Manor was a pile of rubble and flame. Initial Auror investigators suggest that the attackers used a mixture of blasting and incendiary curses to destroy the manor. The Auror's also found and had to disable an anti-apparition ward over the property, laid outside the property boundary._**

'**_The fate of Madam Amelia Suzanne Bones, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement and candidate for becoming the new Minister of Magic, as well as her niece Susan Bones, Hogwarts student and the only remaining issue of the Bones Family, remains a mystery. However the presence of the Dark Mark over the ruin suggests strongly that this truly ancient house has been completely destroyed.'_**

Hermione lowered the paper slowly, looking across at Susan, her face ashen. "Susan... I..." She began as Harry wrapped an arm around her.

The ringing of the door bell startled them all. Nathan, as the only one not currently tied down, rose to get it. If it was those pesky bible-thumpers... His ire died though when he saw through the pebbled glass that the figure at the door was leaning on – slumped against, actually –the wall to the side.

Opening the door, he was relieved to see it was a battered and smoke stained – but alive - Amelia. "Thank god you're okay!"

She looked up tiredly. "Okay is a... relative term." She replied, broken by a cough.

Helping her inside, he led her to the kitchen. Almost as soon as they entered, their presence was noted.

"AUNTIE!"

Susan almost knocked her aunt over with her tackle hug, tears cutting tracks through the ash and smoke that coated the older woman's clothes. Helping her into a spare chair, Nathan nodded to his wife to get the first aid kit; he'd noticed the blood that was slowly staining her clothing and running down one hand.

Finally, the two doctors stepped back, having helped her clean up and assessing her injuries. Smoke inhalation, several curse wounds and slashes, broken ribs and arm... it was more quantity than quality. Unable to treat her wounds magically, the two dentists used the first aid training they did have to stem the flow of blood and make her comfortable, allowing her to regain her strength before heading to St Mungo's. After they had settled her in a sofa chair Harry voiced the question that was everyone's mind. "What happened?"

Amelia set her cup down slowly, eyes looking in the middle distance. "My first warning was the alarm of the outer wards collapsing. When I reached the balcony and looked out, I saw two dozen figures in Death Eater clothing... as well as him."

Harry's eyes narrowed as the older witch shivered. So Voldemort had made a personal appearance.

I activated the Manor's defences." At the blank looks from Harry and the Grangers, she elaborated. "Most Ancient and Noble Magical family's homes are warded to a higher level than regular homes, including active defensive magic to repulse attack.

"When they saw me, several of the Death Eater's started hurling curses my way, while the rest fought back the animated guardian's." She shared a significant glance with Susan, who paled but nodded. There was no need to mention the fact that those 'Guardians' were animated skeletons, a remnant of a darker time. Though the irony was satisfying, given the masks the Death Eaters wore.

"Then _he _got involved, destroying one of the two focal nodes for the guardians with a single curse." The look on her face said enough about that.

"I've heard the stories, read the reports... but to actually _see _him tear through the wards and other measures like they were paper..." She trailed off, the shock still clear in her eyes. After a couple of minutes she continued. "He sent his Death Eaters into the manor, telling them to burn and kill everything..." She hesitated, eyes darting to Susan for a moment, but stayed silent.

Susan gasped. "Oscar and Tilly?" She asked quietly.

Amelia looked pensive. "When he destroyed the first stone, I told them to transfer everything to the Bone's Family vault at Gringotts. By the time the Death Eaters entered, they had emptied everything. They were just informing me of this when they found us." She sighed sadly. "They got Tilly in the back with a cutting curse, a curse intended for me."

Susan started to sob, and both Hermione and Daphne moved to wrap their arms around her.

"Never, in all my years or in any record I have seen, have I ever heard of a House Elf being enraged before." There was an awed note in Amelia's voice. "He was hurling them about like toys. At least three died in as many seconds." Her eyes closed, tears forming in the corners. "Then Voldemort entered. He looked about as if resigned, before he casually cast a string of Killing Curses." She shivered, clearly remembering the sight.

She continued a minute later, in a small voice. "Oscar could have escaped all the curses, but he took the one I couldn't evade, though I was stunned when his... when he fell into me." She breathed deeply for a moment. "I think Voldemort figured I was unconscious, as he just cast Fiendfyre twice to each side before walking out."

On the sofa Susan was sobbing in the embrace of both Hermione and Daphne, who both had tear tracks on their cheeks. Harry found Susan's breakdown a little unnerving, as so far she'd been the truly solid, dependable member of their group.

After a few minutes to allow everyone to regain their composure, Nathan asked slowly. "What now?"

Amelia sighed. "I'll need to alert the Ministry that I'm still alive, before reporting to St. Mungo's. After that..." She trailed off, uncertainty clear on her face.

"That might not be such a good idea..." Hermione's words snapped all their attention to her. She forged on despite the shocked looks. "Voldemort just tried to take you out. What do you think he'll do when he finds out that you're still alive?" At the worried looks her question prompted, she continued. "Maybe it's best to lay low for a bit, until you're back on your feet and have a secure place to stay?"

Amelia looked like she would argue for a moment, but then a twinge of pain shot across her face and she relaxed, nodding in submission.

* * *

Harry was preparing for bed that night, a frown marring his forehead as he contemplated the attack on Madam Bones, when he heard Susan speak quietly from the doorway. "Harry?"

Turning his head he looked at her. She was dressed for bed, the lower hem of her nightgown just eclipsing her knees. Her face still clearly showed signs of crying. "Can I... stay with you tonight?" She asked nervously. "I just... need a hug..."

Forcing down his sudden nervousness, Harry nodded. "Sure." He was a little shocked however when instead of cuddling into his side like he'd expected, Susan crawled up on top of him, her head resting over his collarbone. He could feel a tremor running through her, prompting him to wrap his arms around her.

As her breathing eased, a slight sound made him turn his head to the doorway again. He was not that surprised to see Hermione and Daphne stood there, looking in. It seemed that the connection that they shared allowed them all to know when one of them was feeling a strong emotion. Wordlessly both of them moved to join him and Susan, scooting in to cuddle into his sides, arms around him and Susan.

It was a few minutes before any of them spoke. "Thank you..." Susan's voice was partly muffled by Harry's chest. "I'm sorry that..."

"There's nothing to apologize for." Harry told, gently stroking her hair. He was still unsure as to what to do with a crying girl, but he figured, in this situation, he should do what he had always wanted someone to do during his years at the Dursleys. It helped that both Hermione and Daphne were doing the same thing, namely just hold her gently.

It was Hermione who spoke next. "You want to talk about it?"

Susan sniffed, but didn't lift her head. "Oscar and Tilly are... were a young House Elf couple bonded to my family. After my parents died, they raised me. Auntie was my Guardian, but her job meant that she couldn't be around most of the time." She sniffed, but continued after a moment. "I got my work ethic from them, and I promised that when I became the next Lady Bones, I'd allow them to have their own… children…" Susan broke down into tears once more, and the other three just held her tighter, allowing her to cry out the loss and regret.

* * *

Two nights later Harry lay awake in bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling but not really seeing it. Around him the three witches were snuggled into him once more, providing comfort and support for the next day. The thought of attending Sirius's will, even if it was just a prelim hearing, it had dragged him down all day. They had all noticed, and finally admitted, that they had all slept much better and sounder Tuesday night, when they had slept together to comfort Susan. She had returned to her normal, positive self around Wednesday lunchtime.

Thinking of yesterday, Harry was happy that he'd managed to keep his actions secret from the three. He'd been ready to beg Emma to allow him to go with her on her shopping run, but she had asked him to come before he could ask. As the three young witches were doing deep research, something that they all knew that would lose Harry completely, no-one had complained or expressed any suspicion.

The trip had allowed Harry to pick up the three items of jewellery he'd reserved on their last trip, but he was surprised when Emma had led him straight to the shop. She'd just smiled and passed over her credit card to the till, though she had winced at the total value. Harry was determined to pay her back for every penny. He just needed to visit Gringott's to instruct the Goblins to transfer enough money into the Grangers' muggle accounts from his trust vault. He hoped that they could do that, handling electronic accounts as easily as any muggle bank. It would make things so much easier for everyone.

Tomorrow… he sighed deeply. His thoughts returned to Sirius, wondering what he'd set out in his will. Harry realized that this would be the last contact he ever had with his godfather... and it hurt. Deeply. The grief and sadness tried to come forth, but he felt the three young women around him murmur and tighten their holds on him briefly, driving it back. It was helped that he knew, deep down, that it was not totally his fault that his godfather was gone. Hermione had pounded that thought into him all day. No, there were others who were much more to blame.

Bellatrix was the obvious one, but… Harry had remembered something about that fight, something he'd not seen the first time. Sirius had been taunting, almost playing, with his cousin during their duel in the Department of Mysteries. While then he'd focused on his Godfather, now he recalled the expression on her face. The dark, sadistic look had faded a little, as if she was truly enjoying herself, playing _with_ him in the same way.

Then there had been the curse that had struck him. It had been red, not green. The only red spells he knew of, and thanks to Hermione he knew a lot of combat based ones, were stunners and disarmers. It had most certainly _not_ been a Killing Curse. And for an instant, when she'd struck him, her eyes had lightened, her features softened. But then her eyes had looked behind Sirius, and had widened, and for a moment there had been a look of… shock, and horror. It was as if she hadn't _intended _to kill him! The look had vanished when she'd turned to defend herself and flee the area, but Harry saw it once more in his mind.

But what did it mean? Was it true that blood was thicker, stronger than her allegiance to Voldemort? Had they, when they were younger, been close? Sirius hadn't actually said what his relationship with his three cousins had been like before Azkaban. From what Harry had heard, he'd been closest to Andromeda, Tonk's mother, but the others he was strangely silent on. He'd only mentioned that Bellatrix was currently insane.

The others to blame for his loss were much clearer. Voldemort and Dumbledore. The first was the easiest: if the power mad nutcase hadn't tricked him into going, Sirius would still be alive. That and a whole raft of other ills and crimes could be laid at his feet. One day, Voldemort would pay.

Dumbledore however was a little less clear. It was obvious that if he'd not held back vital information Harry would not have been tricked, or at the very least not so easily fooled. But the old Headmaster seemed unable to even consider revealing anything, except in dire circumstances.

The question that plagued Harry's thoughts though was Dumbledore's motives. Was he just as sick and evil as Voldemort, or was he simply misguided, a delusional fool who should have sent to an old peoples care home years ago? His attitude towards Draco and his crimes against the three witches that were with him… Harry felt the anger rise up within him, but ruthlessly forced it down, not wanting to awaken them. Hermione still needed plenty of rest to fully overcome the curse inflicted on her back then, and Susan was still dealing with the loss of her home.

Whichever way he was, Harry swore to himself that he would not let the Headmaster control him anymore. Harry knew it was more than likely that he still had much he could and should share with them regarding Voldemort, but getting him to do so would be the problem. Whatever sick games he was playing had to end, now.

Glancing between the three young women with him, Harry also swore to himself that from now on, he had to listen to them and not go off half cocked any more. Hermione had nearly died the last time. The stakes and risks were getting higher; he could not afford to lose anyone now.

Between the three of them he knew they were working on a way from them and their friends to train up this summer. The regular Hogwarts experience was not going to be enough, not now. They had to become stronger, faster, better, if they were going to get out of this war in one piece.

Until now he had been unable to see a future beyond Voldemort. Ever since Dumbledore had finally shared the contents of the Prophesy, it had seemed that his only fate was death. Now, the chance of a future that he desperately wanted was forming, and Harry would grab it with both hands, Voldemort and Dumbledore be damned!

* * *

Friday the 12th dawned clear but cool. Both because of the sombre mood that had fallen over Harry, and the nature of the Magical world, Hermione, Susan and Daphne dressed conservatively with long sleeves and trousers... or in Daphne's case, a long skirt. The low necklines and tight tops were also not in evidence. Although only Harry and Hermione were going to attend the pre-hearing of Sirius' will, between them they had decided to make an outing of the day. While it was too early for Hogwarts supplies and books, both young women would be searching for other supplies... supplies more suited for their long term goal: the defeat of Voldemort. While both Susan and Daphne had trust vaults of their own, Harry had put his foot down and told them that he'd pay for anything used to defeat Voldemort; it was his task, no reason for them to bankrupt themselves helping him. It had been a bit of a fight getting his vault key from Molly Weasley; her first reply was essentially that he didn't need it right then, and how could he use it at the Dursleys? While he was pleased that she had no clue he wasn't with his relatives, he found her patronizing tone quite... insulting, actually. He'd had enough of her attitude at Grimmauld Place, constantly pushing them away from order meetings, telling Sirius what he do or say _in his own house_, and generally being bossy and controlling, and not in a good way.

There had been a brief discussion about transport: Charing Cross Road was not too bad to reach by car, but parking was a nightmare. After the first visit, Emma and Nathan had used the train and tube to take Hermione. In the end it was decided that Emma would drop them at the station on the way to work. On their return trip they would decide if they should return the same way or use the Knight Bus.

Susan and Daphne stuck close to Hermione, following her every move and action. Harry also followed her lead, as the Durlseys had not taken him anywhere when they could get away with it. Hermione had the various receipts for the shopping they had done the previous week, plus details of the Grangers bank accounts. Harry intended to request the Goblins transfer funds to the Grangers directly. While they could take the credit card bill that would be coming, Harry was determined to pay his share. He'd smiled when Emma had pulled out several highlighter pens and marked out who got what. It was a very Hermione thing to do.

Descending to the Tube made both Susan and Daphne nervous. They were catching the tail end of the 'Rush Hour', when thousands of people who lived in the suburbs commuted to their jobs in London. The four teens all but clung together, desperate not to get separated. The Tube was cramped, standing room only, but Harry wrapped an arm around them both from where he was tucked into a corner, and his touch calmed them even as the train hurtled through the tunnels. Hermione just smiled warmly from where she hung on to one of the overhead hand rails.

They all felt a sense of disquiet however when they stepped into the Leaky Cauldron. Aside from the Bartender Tom, there were only four people in the pub, and they were hunched over their tables. The air seemed darker, heavier.

Diagon Alley was the largest shopping point for Magical Britain. With transportation so easy, there was no need for regional shopping areas. By this time the Alley should have been packed. But it wasn't. Only a few witches and wizards were about, and all were hurrying, almost furtively moving from shop to shop, never lingering. Sharing uneasy looks, the four teens moved down the Alley. They passed several closed shops, while those still open no longer had wares outside. The sense of fear clung to everyone and everything.

About a third of the way down Harry stopped, before turning his head back towards the one shop. Much like other it showed no signs of activity from the outside: the windows were boarded up, the door closed. But above the mantle were three massive 'W's in a row. Bare wood at the moment, but he could easily picture them painted garishly bright colours. The boards had large 'Coming Soon – Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!' posters strung across them, where they were not covered by Ministry flyers

"The twins?" Hermione asked when she saw what Harry was looking at.

Harry nodded. "I hoped they had something by now." He turned to look at her. "Do we have time?"

Hermione looked at her watch before nodding, biting her lip slightly. While she wouldn't say it, she was concerned about the Weasley family. There were just too many question marks over them for her to trust them all like she used to.

Harry led the quartet over, knocking smartly on the door. After a moment they heard footsteps before a bolt was drawn back... just as a round ball on the end of a string came down from the window above, besides an ear. Both Harry and Hermione smiled at the sight of the twin's Extendable Ear just as the door opened.

"Sorry we're not op..." A recognizable voice started from the door before trailing off as they returned their attention to the door... to see a familiar face.

"Alicia?"

"Harry? Hermione?" The graduated Gryffindor chaser looked between the two of them in surprise, before a smile creased her face.

"I see Fred and George are in." He waved towards the suspended ear and ball, which now opened to form an electric blue eye. It twisted about madly for a moment before finally 'looking' at Harry.

Alicia laughed. "Yes they are, still hiding from their mother."

Harry grinned. "They get a howler?"

The older girl shuddered. "Nearly one a week lately. They've gone as far as getting a silenced trunk to set them off in."

"_We can still hear her." _One of the twin's voices emerged from a voice pipe next to the door.

"_Sets the record for volume."_

"_And persistence."_

"_Don't get us wrong..."_

"_We love her..."_

"_But she does go..."_

"_...on and on..."_

"_...and on and on..."_

"_...and on..."_

"Something you two have inherited." Harry cut them off smiling. Susan was giggling while both Hermione and Daphne were a mixture of amused and exasperated. Alicia just sighed before gesturing them inside.

The inside of the shop was still bare, though they had put up shelving and aisles on the floor. Alicia led them to the rear, past the counter and into the back of the shop. Back here was clearly where the twins made and stored their products. A set of stairs led up to a flat above the shop: Harry tried not to stare at Alicia's bum as she climbed ahead of them. Hermione smiled and winked at him before she went ahead. Harry was sure that she swayed her hips deliberately.

The flat above the shop was only lightly furnished, but enough for a bachelor pad. Though here and there were small feminine touches. The stairs came up at one end of the living space, with two modest bedrooms to his left. Along the far left after the second bedroom was a door, a kitchenette, and another room. The windows at the far end of the living space overlooked the Alley.

And sat in a sofa facing the stairs, wearing equally diabolical grins, were the infamous Weasley Twins.

"Hermione!" they chorused.

"Welcome to..."

"...our delightful..."

"...smashing..."

"Dump." Hermione cut in, though a grin softened her words. The twins affected wounded expressions.

"Hermione..."

"...you wound us..."

"...with such labels..."

"It's true though." Another familiar voice cut in from the kitchen area. They looked to see the other graduated Chaser Angelina leaning against the counter, a smile tweaking her lips. "When we got here, it was a real mess."

"Pigsty, more like." Alicia put in. She was smiling too though as she sat on the right arm of the sofa the twins were on.

Clearly eager to move on from the topic, two sets of devious eyes fastened on Harry. "Harry!"

"Fred. George."

The left twin pointed to the other. "He's George. I'm Fred."

"Nope." Alicia tapped the twin nearest her on the shoulder. "This is Fred."

"How can you tell them apart?" Daphne asked, confusion clear in her tone, though the others could see an amused glint in her eyes.

Alicia smirked. "Fred's prettier."

Harry lost it at the twin expressions of bewilderment and revulsion. His laughter made all of them laugh out too, including the twins themselves.

After they had all collected themselves, the twins looked between their four guests. Harry and Hermione were sat together on the other sofa. Susan had taken one of the armchairs, while Daphne was perched on the sofa arm like Alicia. Their eyes lowered to Harry and Hermione's joined hands, and they both grinned once more.

"It seems, my dear brother..."

"...that we owe these two..."

"...congratulations."

"Not for getting together..."

"...of course not."

"Finally seeing..."

"...what everyone else..."

"...in Gryffindor..."

"...and Ravenclaw..."

"...the whole school, in fact..."

"...you're right brother of mine..."

"...even the staff saw..."

"...how these two were dating already..."

"...but just had not realized."

Suddenly their expressions fell.

"Except ickle Ronniekins."

The other twin – George? – nodded sadly. "Yes. Even Ginny saw it..."

"...she just refused to believe it."

"So when did the happy day occur?" Alicia asked, prompting a blush from Hermione.

"Last Monday." Hermione answered softly.

Fred shook his head slowly. "Ronnie's not going to like that."

George picked up from his twin. "He's been going on how..."

"...this summer be when..."

"...Hermione becomes his..."

"Well he's been told again and again that I'm NOT interested!" Hermione snapped, her anger at Ron flaring up. She looked sadly at Harry. "I'm sorry Harry, but I will not tolerate his behaviour or attitude any more. I know he was your first friend, and I've tried to be reasonable, but he crossed the line when he groped me."

Harry let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her, drawing her into a reassuring hug. "He may have been my first friend Hermione, but you have been the only true one. And my best friend."

The twins however were looking grim. It was clear that their little brother was in for a world of trouble once they got hold of him. Pushing that topic to one side for now, they faced Harry once more. "We hear..."

"...that you two..."

"...plus our younger siblings..."

"...and Neville..."

"...don't forget charming Luna..."

"...had an interesting time..."

"...at the Ministry."

The cheer drained from the room as harry seemed to sink inwards. "Yeah." He answered quietly. "I fell for Voldemort's trick, and Sirius..." He had to pause for a moment before he could continue. "We need to attend Gringotts this morning."

The twins nervously looked towards the windows overlooking the Alley. "Dumbledore outside?"

Harry's face twisted into a scowl. "Dumbledore knows nothing about us being here. Not a word." He looked at the two of them intently. "If it was up to him, we would not know about having to attend."

Both twins nodded slowly. "Sounds like him."

"Ever since we left Hogwarts..."

"...and the Burrow..."

"...things have not been what they seemed."

"We think Dumbledore's trying to control, or even mould, Harry." Daphne spoke up. "For what purpose, though..." She shrugged.

"But with everything else going on in his life, it can't be good." Susan contributed. A round of nods followed her words.

Fred visibly took a deep breath before speaking. "Harry, Hermione... you should know that despite what our siblings..."

"...or our mother..." George added.

"...or her, says or does..."

"...we're with you, all the way." George finished solemnly. That, more than anything they said, reassured Harry.

"Thanks guys." He replied, unable to get anything else out. After a moment he looked back at them. "So, how's business going?"

Both of them looked crest fallen. "Not good." Fred started. "What with Voldieshorts now officially back..."

"...most people are scared to leave home..."

"...several shopkeepers have closed up and fled..."

"...including most of those we need..."

"...and with the lack of shoppers..."

"...we just can't get the income."

"Course, we might get some better trade late August..."

"...Hogwarts supply run..."

"...But we fear the parents will make the kids..."

"...our targets..."

"...stay home, to keep safe."

Harry nodded slowly, not surprised, but disgruntled. "What you making right now? That eye was brilliant!"

The twins grinned. "That's our new companion to the Extendable Ear..."

"...The Extruded Eye. Put the user end over your eye..."

"...and you see whatever the eye end sees!"

"Have to close your other eye though."

"Really confuses you if you don't."

"Takes some time to master..."

"...but you can twist round anything..."

"...or over anything..."

"...like shower stalls or rails when..." The twins froze, expressions paling, before slowly turning to look at the two former chasers who had their arms crossed and stern expressions.

"Been testing them on us, George?" Angelina asked softly, but menacingly.

Harry, with a smile, cut in. "When you punish them girls, don't do too much harm. I need them to make at least a half-dozen." He faced the twins again. "Could you focus on things that we could use in fights and the like?"

"Of course, oh noble benefactor..."

"...our only one, actually..."

"What's this Harry?" Susan looked at him closely. "You're funding them?"

Harry sighed. "I gave them the Tri-Wizard winnings. I didn't earn them, Cedric did, and we're going to need all the laughter we can get."

Hermione rubbed his back, pleased at his reasoning, before glancing at her watch. "Sorry, but we have to go."

Harry sighed once more before standing up. "Later guys. If we can arrange it, you're invited to train with us. I know this shop is your dream..."

The twins waved him off. "Won't be worth anything if Mouldie wins now, would it?"

"You're been a far better brother than Ronald."

"Say the word, and we're there."

Their reassurance buoyed Harry all the way to the doors of Gringotts. Standing before those two great sheets of metal however, reinforced what was about to happen. This was it. He had to face it now: Sirius was gone. He just hoped he could carry out his legacy. Besides him, Hermione stood silently, understanding how difficult this must be for him. Gently touching his arm, the two looked at each other, a whole conversation said without a word spoken. With a short nod he faced the doors once more. Steeling himself, Harry pushed the door open.

* * *

**A/N: **There we go, that's a good point to stop for now. Expect a slightly different take on the Goblins next time, along with some of the manipulations coming to light...


	18. Unearthing Records

**A/N: **Welcome to the first of two chapters dealing with the events at their first trip to Gringotts. I would have made it all one chapter, but the plot-bunny here got a little carrried away... In any case enjoy!

* * *

The bank was eerily quiet as the four teens walked inside. The goblin tellers were at their counters, but there were no other customers about. Nor were the tellers counting money, they seemed to just be sitting there. Harry gulped when at the first sound of his entry every single head snapped up to look at him. He felt all their eyes follow him as they walked across the marble floor towards one of the senior tellers.

"Hello. Could you inform Goldbag that I, Harry Potter, have arrived for my eleven AM appointment, and await his convenience. I'm willing to wait for him to be ready to see me."

The teller looked at him, then glanced towards the large clock on the wall. Quarter to eleven. One eyebrow rose. Polite, early and not demanding immediate attention. A nice change.

"Very well." The goblin tapped a bell at his side. A younger goblin seemed to appear at his side. Looking at him, the teller spoke a brief burst of goblin before the younger one nodded before walking briskly away. The teller faced Harry once more. "Goldbag will be notified momentarily."

Harry smiled a bit. "In the mean time, I have a couple of requests I'd like to ask."

Requests, not Orders. The eyebrow rose a little more. "Yes?"

"Can you transfer value from a vault and place it in a muggle electronic account?" Harry asked with a hint of nervousness. "It'd be less conspicuous than walking into a muggle bank with a bag full of money."

"Of course we can. You should know this already Mr Potter." The teller tapped the book on his desk before him. "There is already a monthly transfer of funds to the Barclays account belonging to Mr and Mrs Dursley in place."

Harry froze, his expression darkening. The three witches emitted soft gasps before the metaphorical light bulb went off above Daphne's head. Hermione looked towards Harry... and had to fight a small urge to take a step back.

"WHAT?" Harry finally yelled, drawing the attention of every goblin in the bank. "Why? Who authorised that?"

The teller looked at his book again. "According to our records, one hundred galleons – converted in muggle pounds – per month for 'your food, care and upbringing'. The signee was one Albus Dumbledore, and it started on November 3rd, 1981."

Hermione quickly did a mental conversion. "Harry... that's nearly five hundred pounds a month." The shock was clear in her voice.

Harry was visibly shaking with anger... but in his eyes was also pain. "All those years... saying I was a burden... taking money away, making things tight... I was lucky if they spent five pence on me per month..." Although he spoke quietly, the absolute silence of the bank allowed everyone to hear what he said.

Daphne's eyes narrowed as a thought struck her. "Have there been other transfers or withdrawals from Mister Potter's accounts since that time?"

At Harry's nod, the teller examined his book once more, waving his hand over it and muttering every now and again. A frown grew on his face. "This is odd... it appears that your account records have been restricted."

By now every pair of eyes and ears in the bank was watching the conversation intently. Out of the corner of her eye Susan noted that the next teller over was watching very intently... and something about his posture was triggering alarm bells in her mind. Having an Auror for an aunt, along with an interest in crime fiction, had given her theoretical experience in spotting the guilty party. Subtly she nudged Daphne. When the taller blond looked at her, Susan nodded towards the suspect teller.

By now the senior teller was looking most irate, his glare focused on the book before him. "This is most irregular... no order came down from management... and this is goblin magic..."

"Try asking him." Daphne said loudly, her eyes fixed on the goblin Susan had pointed out. Every eye jumped to him, and even to Harry it was clear he was startled.

"ME? What would I know about Mister Potters' accounts foolish young witch?" The way he said 'witch' , with a sneer, reminded Harry rather forcibly of the way Lucius Malfoy spoke of muggles and muggleborns, Hagrid... just about anyone he didn't like really.

"You tell us." Daphne countered. "But you do know something." Her eyes were narrowed blue slits.

The goblin openly scoffed, but his expression was not ringing genuine. "You really think I do?"

Daphne smiled darkly. "My father, Erickson Greengrass, has taught me everything he knows about reading people; humans, goblins and dwarfs." Every Harry couldn't miss the start that the goblin made at her fathers name. Clearly he was well known in goblin circles. "And right now you are lying. Could it be that _you're _the one who put the seal on Harry's accounts? Question is why..."

Daphne was cut off however when the goblins face shifted into an ugly expression before he jumped up onto the desk before diving towards her, a large dagger appearing in his outstretched hand, pointed right at her heart.

Time seemed to slow for Harry then. He could see Daphne's eyes fly open in slow motion, the way the blade gleamed as it moved towards her. He moved forwards to block, but it was clear that he'd never reach them in time. Acting on instinct his wand left his pocket and shot out. "_Expelliarmus_!"

The spell struck the goblin on the wrist. The dagger spun towards the floor as the hand shot open. For a brief moment he saw the goblins eyes widen before he was spun around by the spell to slam into the floor.

The sound of the goblin striking the floor brought time back to normal speed.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, turning to face him with a mixture of awe and horror on her face. Harry didn't notice however, as his attention was totally on the goblin that had just tried to run Daphne through.

Until he felt a sharp point jab him in the back.

"Mister Potter... are you aware of what you have done?" The Senior Teller spoke in a slow, very serious voice.

"Saved the life of someone I care about very much." Harry's eyes lifted to Daphne, who was looking at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open.

"You have violated the treaty. No wizard or witch may perform magic within Gringotts without express permission. The punishment for such is..."

"_**HOLD SENIOR TELLER GRABCLAW."**_The voice boomed out from above, filling the bank. The Quartet looked up, to see a large bow window high in the wall that faced the doors. A goblin-sized figure was just viable as a shadow.

"Sire?" Grabclaw squeaked.

"_**NO CHARGES WILL BE PRESSED AGAINST MISTER POTTER. HE ACTED IN DEFENSE OF OTHERS IN HIS GROUP. THERE IS NO DISHONOUR IN HIS ACTIONS."**_ The voice paused. _**"BRING MISTER POTTER AND HIS PARTY BEFORE ME. GUARDS, BRING TELLER RATFOOT BEFORE ME AS WELL. AND SUMMON THE DUTY CURSE BREAKER AND THE MASTER LEDGER."**_

"Ye..yes sire!" Grabclaw stammered. Before gesturing to two of the armoured guards to pick up the teller. "Follow me." He told Harry as he stepped down from his high seat.

"Harry!" Susan half-whispered urgently as they followed Grabclaw through a door at the back of the bank floor. "Do you know who we're going to see?" There was an excited, yet terrified note in her voice as they were joined by another, more ornately armoured goblin.

Harry shrugged. "No idea."

"Ragnok! Grand Master of Gringotts and High King of the goblins!" She explained in a rush. "He's the most powerful goblin on the planet!" She stopped as the group stepped onto a platform that rose slowly once they were all on. "He was a champion of the goblin warriors during the last war, and has not met with a human since then!"

Hermione's face was white, and Harry had that deep look of shock that is rarely achieved. "Oh."

The lift platform came to a stop, and they looked out into an open, high ceiling chamber. The walls curved outwards then back in, forming a roughly oval shape. They were on one of the long sides, while on the other there was an opening into a second, slightly smaller chamber. The floor before them however was sunk down a good three feet, with a narrow ledge running around the edge. Two large figures stood where the edge walkways reached the second cavern. Behind them steps could be seen, rising up to another level, the far wall being a window out into the main bank floor. Silhouetted against that window was a high backed throne. Following Grabclaw they began to walk around the sunken pit. Harry noted that there were large alcoves cut into the walls, each with rows of seats facing inwards, and what looked like coats of arms were carved into the lintels above each alcove.

Harry shuddered as he realised just what this place was. A Duelling Arena. And each of these alcoves must belong to the various goblin clans or families.

Hermione whimpered slightly when they reached the figure that barred the way forward. It was only when they got within a few feet that they realised just what the guard was. It was a Troll, wearing full plate armour and holding a massive halberd. Unlike the troll that Harry had saved her from back in first year however, this troll had a gleam of intelligence in his eyes. After a moment the Troll stepped aside, allowing them passage. For a moment Harry thought Hermione wouldn't or couldn't move, but a gentle touch to her elbow allowed her to suppress the memories and step forwards. Once beyond the troll they were led up to the second level. On each side trophies were displayed in racks and propped against the wall. Four complete suits of goblin armour – and many pieces of human armour – were pride of place closest to the throne.

Grabclaw halted a good eight feet from the throne before kneeling. The guards escorting Ratfoot did as well, forcing the captive to do the same. After a second Harry followed suit, prompting Hermione, Susan and Daphne to do as well.

"Grabclaw. Explain your findings in the matter of Mister Potter's accounts." The voice that came from the throne didn't boom as it had in the bank itself, but there was no mistaking the air of command and power behind it.

The nervousness was rolling off the goblin in waves. "Sire... I was attempting to pull up the Potter Account records on my positions ledger. I found that the Potter Family accounts have been sealed."

"I see." For a moment there was silence; then there was a shifting sound before footsteps began to approach. Harry caught the edges of the expressions of shock the goblins wore before Ragnok stepped out of the shadows in front of the now cowering Ratfoot.

At that moment any similarity between Ragnok and The Emperor died in Hermione's mind. When Susan had said that he'd fought in the last Goblin War, Hermione had pictured a wizen, ancient being, much like Yoda, bent and wrinkled with age. The goblin that stepped forwards however was anything but. For one he was the tallest she'd seen, a head taller than the rest. The only sign of age was the thick, steel gray hair. But the most eye catching part of him was the massively ornate, jewel speckled, sculpted breastplate. She could see runes finely engraved around the collar rim and down the centreline over the sternum. He moved with an easy, predatory grace that showed that although it had been centuries since the last war, he still kept in excellent shape.

"Explain your actions Ratfoot. Now." The words were spoken softly, calmly, but the threat was clear.

"Sire, it wasn't me!"

"Now you are a liar as well as a thief." Ragnok looked up at the more ornately armoured goblin standing behind the two guards. "Take him to the cells captain. And make sure my torturer knows I want truthful answers." The goblin just nodded before walking back around the arena, the two guards dragging a screaming Ratfoot between them. Harry however was more focused on the pair of armoured boot clad feet that stopped before him to really listen to the desperate plea's from the now doomed goblin.

"Harry Potter, scion of the House of Potter. You violated the treaty with the Goblin race, your offence compounded as a goblin was the target of your magic." Ragnok paused for a handful of seconds.

"However... your actions were to save another's life from an unprovoked attack by the goblin in question. And the spell you used was a non-lethal, defensive one. Thusly, this time there will be no punishment. Do not let it happen again... for I may not be as merciful."

Harry swallowed nervously. "Yes sire."

Unseen by them all Ragnok's eyebrow rose ever so slightly. Despite his own mistrust of humans - and wizards in particular – Harry Potter had impressed him already.

The sound of heavy doors opening echoed through the chamber, and the four teens strained to see what was happening. Four young goblins worked together to wheel a huge rolling table from a now open passageway to their right. Hermione gasped when she realised that the object on top of the low table was a book, a truly massive tome. Alongside the table walked an old, slightly wizen goblin, while a bit further back was Bill Weasley.

At a gesture from the older goblin, the table stopped. "Sire?" He asked quietly. His mouth flashed with golden teeth.

"It appears that the Master Ledger has been tampered with, Lord Accountant Goldtooth." As the older goblin sucked in his breath, Ragnok looked at Bill. "Breaker Weasley, the Potter Accounts have been sealed by a goblin without my permission. Break his seal." He waved to the massive book before motioning the goblins back.

Bill audibly swallowed. "Yes sire." He said before withdrawing his wand. Stepping over to the Ledger, he began chanting in a low, guttural dialect. The Ledger glowed red, and he thrust his wand at it. A hum filled the air as the magic of the goblin fought against Bills own. Then with the sound of shattering glass the red glow broke into fragments that faded into nothing. Bill waved his wand a little more before stepping back, beads of sweat dotting his brow.

"It is done, Sire."

Ragnok nodded slowly. "Very well. Lord Accountant, see that Breaker Weasley is awarded the value for breaking a high-risk tomb." Ignoring the stunned look on Bill's face Ragnok looked at Grabclaw. "Now... answer Mister Potter's questions. I'm curious as to the answers myself."

Grabclaw lifted a smaller ledger from the table, running his hand over it as he did. After a long few moments he started speaking.

"In addition to the transfers to the muggle bank account of one Vernon Dursley, there have been numerous withdrawals by one Molly Weasley. Two years ago there was a payment of fifty-seven galleons to Madam Malkin's robe shop..."

Harry nodded "Dress robes for the Yule Ball."

"That same year and last, withdrawals of two hundred galleons..."

Harry frowned. "I know she got my school supplies this past year and for fourth... but surely that's too much?"

Daphne and Susan nodded. "Thirty galleons would have been enough..."

Hermione was frowning, a suspicion lurking in her mind. Bill was looking pale, clearly startled.

Grabclaw waited a moment before he continued. "There have also been numerous late July withdrawals. Six hundred galleons each in '82 and '83, one thousand two hundred for the following three years, eighteen hundred in '87 and '88, and two thousand four hundred for the next three. The value rose again for '92 and '93 to three thousand, but dropped back to two-four in '94. Last year she withdrew two thousand four hundred on July 28th, with an earlier withdrawal of three thousand six hundred July the 2nd. Her last withdrawal was on the 10th, a total of two thousand galleons. There have also been the scheduled transfers of your Hogwarts tuition, of twelve hundred galleons each year, for the last five years. These were in accordance with the trust vault contract, set up by your parents."

All four teens were staggered by what Grabclaw had just said, but Bill was the most affected. He was sliding down the wall behind him, his face an open display of shock and horror. His elbows were resting on his knees allowing his hands to hang down as his head bowed.

Predictably, it was Hermione who first totalled up the amount. "Harry... she's taken just over thirty thousand galleons over the last fourteen years... that's nearly a hundred and fifty thousand pounds..." She felt faint at the thought.

Harry was stunned. He'd trusted Molly Weasley for several years now; she'd seemed like such a warm, caring figure when he first met her. He now knew that she'd been using him, but to find out that she'd been stealing his money since just after his parents had died... Only two words escaped the his throat. "How? Why?" His voice was weak, stunned.

Grabclaw examined the ledger, then turned slowly to Ragnok. "The teller for all her transactions was Ratfoot, sire. But appears that there is a contract that authorised her to withdraw the funds." There was a nervous note in his voice.

"I see." Ragnok was silent for a long moment before slowly turning to face the clearly stunned Bill. "Breaker Weasley? Can you explain?" His tone was laced with steel.

Bill slowly looked up. Tears were running down his cheeks and his expression was totally distraught. "Sire... I swear I knew nothing of this. I offer oath that I had no knowledge of this matter."

Ragnok looked at him keenly before speaking. "Your offer is sufficient proof that you are truthful. But you suspect something?"

Bill nodded slowly. "The first date of the large withdrawals... I started Hogwarts that year. The dates when the value increased or decreased matches the dates of my siblings entering or leaving Hogwarts."

Hermione bit her lip as she rapidly reviewed what she knew of the Weasley children's Hogwarts years. "He's right. But why not the full amount? Unless... you mentioned a contract… what is it?"

Grabclaw shook his head. "I do not have access to discover that."

"Nevertheless, Molly Weasley has potentially stolen money from the Potter Family, using a corrupt goblin to cover her tracks." Ragnok intoned as he stalked back to his throne. Once more his voice was filled with command and power. "Henceforth, Molly Weasley is barred from Gringotts for life. House Weasley has forty-two days to either repay what Mrs Weasley stole, with interest, or to prove that one Molly Weasley acted without the knowledge or consent of the Head of Family or any other member, in which case it will be herself who will be held accountable. Breaker Weasley, until such time, you are suspended from service with Gringotts from the end of this day. You will inform your Head of House of the actions of one Molly Weasley, and the ultimatum I have issued."

Bill paled, but nodded, clearly understanding the reason for the suspension. "I understand, Sire. I have one question."

"State your question."

"Does my mo... Molly Weasley's ban include attending the Sirius Black will reading next week? She is named in the will as an attendee according to Goldbag."

"Hmmm... normally yes, but as I am looking forward to her reaction to the contents of that will... She will be granted amnesty for the will reading only."

"Thank you Sire." Bill rose before facing Harry. He paused, swallowing before lowering his gaze. "Harry... I... I'm sorry. Had I know... I'd never have..."

Harry cut him off mid-apology. "I don't blame you Bill. It's your mother who should answer for this." Bill summoned a small smile before slowly walking away, dejection radiating off him.

"Mister Potter, the funds transferred to this Vernon Dursley... what is his relation to you?"

Harry scowled. "My uncle. Well, Uncle-by-Law really. He married my mother's sister."

"And is it true that they mistreated you, despite being paid handsomely to care for you?"

Harry's expression darkened. "Had it just been mistreatment, I'd have been happier! Beatings, starvation, mental & emotional abuse...!" Fuelled by the betrayal by Mrs Weasley, Harry's anger at the Dursley broke the floodgates and his history with them came roaring out. "For the first ten years of my life there, they forced me to sleep in a tiny cupboard under the stairs! Ever since the start, _anything_ that went wrong was blamed on me! I didn't even know my own name till I was five! My cousin's favourite game was 'Harry Hunting'... in essence they played as the hounds chasing the fox, me! They stuff their faces, yet I got the few meagre scraps they left behind or failed to finish before it got stale and mouldy! Any hint of curiosity was punished, any hint of even _thinking_ about vaguely magical things was cause for being locked in that cupboard for up to a week, _after _a thrashing with a belt! Marge, Vernon's sister, would set her Bulldog on me!" Furiously he yanked up a trouser leg, twisting his leg to allow the light to play over the silvery scars of old bite marks... clearly from when he'd been much smaller. "Then there's the other stuff, telling all the neighbours that I'm deranged, unstable, schooled at St Brutus Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys! Having me blamed for the things Dudley and his gang do! Making me do all the cleaning, cooking, gardening..." He trailed off, tears of rage silently running down his cheeks.

"Oh Harry..." Was all his warning before he was engulfed in crying witches. Hermione, Susan and Daphne wrapped themselves around him, holding him close. As Susan all but burrowed into his back Harry snaked his arms around Hermione and Daphne, drawing them close.

Normally, such displays of emotion were... discouraged, within Gringotts. It was counter to the Goblin Code of Honour to show weakness. Such actions during Will readings and the like were often written off as examples of the wizard's fundamental inferiority to Goblin-kind.

However, Ragnok had easily seen that this wizard was of great importance to the three witches, and thus their reactions were excused for that reason alone.

Besides, he'd be a hypocrite if he denied that he'd been as affected by Harry's tale as they had.

The only difference was that _his_ reaction was to be much more... violent.

Most wizards didn't even think about Goblin customs, but underpinning the Goblin way of life was Honour. While they thought nothing of butchering a helpless foe or torture, there were aspects that were just like the human code. The Goblins just held themselves to higher standards, and had greater punishments.

The abuse or harm of children, physical or mental, was the worst crime.

Ragnok had to restrain himself with every iota of his will from snatching up his favoured war-axe and storming to the Durleys residence in a raging blood-lust. They would not die, oh no... death was too good for such monsters. He would drag them back to his dungeons to extract every morsel of pain out of them he could... and Ragnok was no slouch in inflicting pain.

Their limbs, however... would remain at Privett Drive.

"Lord Accountant, cease all payments to Vernon Dursley AT ONCE! Then extract every single galleon – at the highest rate of interest and the worst exchange rate – from him that is owed to Mister Potter. Spread the word to all the banks that he is untrustworthy! I want him destroyed financially! Use every loophole and contact we have! Have anything he has repossessed! His car, his home..."

Grabclaw looked up nervously. "Sire... we can't take his home..."

"WHY NOT?"

Grabclaw looked like he was one inch away from curling into a tiny quivering ball. "Be... because Si.. sire, nu... number four Pri... Privett Drive is l... listed as be... belonging to Hou...House Potter."

Ragnok blinked, silent for a moment. Grabclaw continued to speak, slightly calmer now as it looked like Ragnok would not take his head off. "The books record that Lily Potter, with the consent of her husband Mr Potter and the Head of the Family Charles Potter, bought the property as a wedding gift for her sister in May, 1979. The Dursleys took the keys and moved in beginning of June that year, but never collected the deed from Potter Manor."

A truly evil grin spread across Ragnok's face, though it was hidden in the shadows. "Then it's time they paid their rent. Issue them a bill for rent due, plus interest, and make sure they know we _will _collect what they owe! If this is acceptable Mister Potter."

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes hard. Around him all three witches had eyes equally as hard. "Take everything Sire. They spent ten years treating me like nothing, worth nothing. They deserve to have nothing."

"Very well. Now, as time is pressing on, conclude your business with Teller Grabclaw, as it is almost time for the reading of Sirius Blacks pre-will. Goldbag will be most distressed if you two are not in attendance." Harry and Hermione looked at her wrist, the watch there displaying the time: just after five to eleven.

Turning back to Grabclaw, Harry tried to focus on what he needed the goblins to do. "Well, yes... I need an amount transferred to the account belonging to the Grangers, Hermione's parents." Silently Hermione drew out the details.

Grabclaw looked at him. "How much do you wish transferred?"

Harry blinked. Hermione however was a step ahead and pulled out the various receipts and such like. She'd totalled everything on the train ride into London: the final value had given her pause. While her parents were well off thanks to their private dental practice, this was a _lot_ of money. "Here are the totals from Harry's, Susan's and Daphne's trust vaults..." She started, handing over the final totals. But Harry jumped in.

"I'll pay for everything. And put... twenty percent on the top."

The three young women turned to face him. "Harry, you can't!" Hermione begun.

Harry smiled sadly. "It's because of me that you're in this position." Then his smile turned a little feral, and a gleam entered his eye. "Besides, I suspect that a lot of money will soon be entered into my vault... more than I can ever spend. Which reminds me..." He turned back to Grabclaw. "Could you draw out six hundred galleons in two bags, and make sure that both Miss Greengrass and Miss Bones gets them?" He looked at the two young witches once more. "You're not going to argue with me about this?" He asked lightly.

"Only the value." Daphne shot back before her face took on a worried expression. "Harry... are you sure? That's a lot of money..."

Harry silenced her with a finger to her lips. "I trust you Daphne. And until we look, we don't know just how much it'll cost to get what we need."

Daphne smiled, her eyes looking suspiciously damp. "Thanks Harry."

Meanwhile Hermione looked at Susan. "You have the lists?"

Susan nodded, patting the pocket were she'd placed both sheets of notepaper. They'd spent yesterday evening brainstorming of all the things they might need in the war that was coming. It wasn't just wand holsters and potions, but books, magical items and other knickknacks that might come in handy. Harry was already thinking about collaborating with the Twins: those two geniuses had devious minds. He had cautioned both witches however not to turn their noses up or overlook any shop, no matter if they had in the past. Who knew what treasures might be lurking in the depths of those old shops?

Turning back to Grabclaw, Harry nodded. "That's every... no, wait, I just remembered. Do you send out statements to vault owners like the muggle banks?"

Grabclaw adjusted the glasses he wore. "Only at the request of the Vault Holders Mister Potter. Normally once a year, though they can request a more frequent correspondence. If the Vault Holder grants us use of the stored gold for investment, we recommend more frequent statements. And before you ask, the Potter Vaults are sending out such statements, bi-annually for the main vaults and monthly for your trust vault, all to your magical Guardian... one Albus Dumbledore." He glanced in Ragnok's direction – with the senior goblin in the shadow, it was hard to know exactly where he was – before removing his glasses and cleaning them with a small cloth. "Normally, only a Guardian can change this for vaults of a minor..."

"...But in this case, allow Mister Potter full control." Ragnok's voice emerged from the shadows.

Harry grinned: he was really starting to like the goblin ruler. "In that case... can you shift the statements to come directly to me? When will Dumbledore expect the next statement?"

"Morning of August 1st."

Harry nodded, then froze. "Wait. You said 'Vaults'. There's more than the vault I know about?"

"Of course." Grabclaw seemed to sigh. "In addition to the Trust Vault that you are currently using, there is also the Main Potter Fortune vault, where the primary bulk of the Potter Families liquid capital is stored. There is also the Heirloom Vault, containing many items of value and importance to the Potter Family." Seeing the look of longing and hope on his face, Grabclaw hated to have to say what he had to next. "Unfortunately, you are unable to visit said vaults without a Parent or Guardian present until you have reached your majority."

Harry sighed in resignation, before looking up. "Thank you. I've taken up enough of your valuable time."

"On the contrary, Mister Potter." Ragnok said in an almost jovial tone. "What came to light today was... most enlightening." He kept to himself however the urges within him to send out his army to drag Albus Dumbledore and the Dursleys into his presence... so he could fully make known to them his... _displeasure _with them.

Dumbledore really should know the dangers of riling the Goblins. He was there the last time there had been a clash between the wizards and goblin-kind. It was the day Ragnok earned his latest title... the Slaughter.

Harry bowed, before allowing Grabclaw to lead him and the three witches with him back to the main Bank Floor.

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**A/N:** And there we go. Hope you've seen things a little different from the norm, and expect the next chapter on the 28th. Until then, keep those reviews coming! Oh, and one thing; if you disable prviatge messaging, I can't reply to your reviews! Just to let you know...

The teller looked at his book again. "According to our records, one hundred galleons – converted in muggle pounds – per month for 'your food, care and upbringing'. The signee was one Albus Dumbledore, and it started on November 3rd, 1981."

Hermione quickly did a mental conversion. "Harry... that's nearly five hundred pounds a month." The shock was clear in her voice.


	19. Where There's a Will

**A/N: **Hey everyone, we're here! (finally!) The Pre-Will of Sirius Black. I know you're all champing at the bit, so without further ado...**  
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When they reached the Bank Floor Grabclaw turned to face Harry. "Your withdraws should be with us momentarily."

"Thank you for your efforts, Senior Teller." Harry replied, bowing to the smaller goblin. His act of respect was noted by all the other goblins on the Floor. Not many wizards had ever shown them respect.

Two other sets of eyes had seen his action, and both widened at it. The one chuckled, thinking how typical it was of Harry Potter.

The other decided to let their presence be known. "Wotcher, Harry!"

Harry looked up to see Remus and Tonks walking over. The former looked like he'd made an effort to neaten up, but was even more haggard and worn. Tonks too was sombre. Her hair was a mousy brown and her clothing plain.

"Hello Remus, Tonks."

"Hello Harry." Remus smiled lightly, but they could see in his eyes that he was not enjoying the reason for the summons. His eyes wandered over the other three teens, one eyebrow rising slightly. "Pardon me, but while I can understand why Hermione's here, I can't see Sirius inviting either Miss Bones or Greengrass to his Will Reading, no offence."

Susan smiled warmly. "None taken. We're just here with Harry to get some money out, before we start shopping for supplies."

Remus nodded slowly, before looking out across the bank. "Where's everyone else? It's almost time..."

Harry smirked. "Yes... and a week early."

"What?" Both adults spun round to look incredulously at him.

"Moony, I believe we are in the beginning stages of Padfoot's last prank, and it's going to be a masterpiece."

While Tonks was still shocked, the darkness receded from Remus's eye, and his lips twitched. "Trust Sirius to use his own Will Reading as a means to prank someone. But who?"

Harry's grin just widened. "If I'm right, Dumbledore, Molly, and the whole world."

Just then a goblin stepped up, holding out two small cloth sacks to Grabclaw. The Senior Teller took them before handing over to Susan and Daphne.

"There you go Mister Potter. Will there be anything else?"

Harry shook his head. "No, thank you."

Grabclaw nodded, before gesturing to one side. "In that case I will leave you in Goldbag's care." A quick glance showed a senior, suit wearing goblin approaching. With that Grabclaw moved back towards the position he had been sat at before they arrived.

"We'd best be going too." Daphne said softly.

"Ok." Harry replied a little sadly. Then to everyone's surprise he pulled the slightly taller blond into a hug, before doing the same with Susan. "Take care, both of you. We'll meet you in the Cauldron afterwards."

"We will." Susan told him before giving him a peck on the cheek as she stepped back. Daphne copied the action on his other cheek before the two of them started walking towards the main doors. Knowing the curious looks on Tonks and Remus's faces, and not wanting to try and explain things – at least until he was more comfortable with It himself – Harry turned to regard the goblin that had reached them.

"Mister Potter?" He asked. Harry nodded, "Miss Granger? Mr Lupin? Miss Tonks?" After they had all nodded he nodded himself. "Follow me please." The four them followed, Harry holding Hermione's hand.

The goblin led them down a corridor to a modest office. "Be seated." He gestured to four chairs set on one side of a table as he moved round to a raised chair of goblin proportions. Once they were all sat he looked between them all.

"Very well. I am Goldbag, Account Master for the Black Family. The fallen member of that Family, one Sirius Orion Black, arranged for this pre-will hearing for the four of you: Harry James Potter, Hermione Jane Granger, Remus John Lupin & Nymphadora Tonks." Over the mutterings of Tonks Goldbag pressed on.

"Mr Black expressed concerns with Gringotts about the current Magical Guardian for both Mister Potter and Miss Granger. He also had several issues concerning authority figures close to both, and to both Mr Lupin and Miss Tonks. He wanted you four to have advance warning of the contents of his will, and what will be revealed.

"As part of these details, Mr Black leased the use of recording spheres from Gringotts." Tonks sat up at that. "The costs for the lease have already been deducted from the Black Family vault." With that he lifted from a wooden box a small, round blue sphere.

Harry swallowed, and Hermione squeezed his hand to reassure him. The sphere Goldbag held looked just like the Prophecy Sphere they had fought the Death Eaters over. Seeing that brought back bad memories of that night. Goldbag set the sphere down in a supporting frame that held it neatly a few inches above the desk, before waving his hand over it.

An image was projected in the air before the sphere, facing them. It showed Sirius sat in an armchair they recognised as one from Grimmauld Place from the knees up. It choked them all up to see him once more, still looking a little gaunt, but alive.

"Hi. If everything's going to plan, then Moony, Tonks and Hermione should be hearing this. Hopefully you've managed to get Harry there – here? Whatever – too. But if not, well, I understand. Better than you I expect.

"Now, if you three or four are hearing this, then I've up and died. Likely done something really stupid or something. Therefore, I'm the one to blame, not any of you. Yes Harry, even you. I noticed your tendency to take the blame for everything, something that the Dursleys need to be 'thanked' for. But in this case, unless you actually put a wand to my head and fired off a spell, it's not your fault.

"Now... I've leased this recording sphere from Gringotts because I want to make sure that you got to hear my thoughts before I snuffed it. I've been updating this thing every so often, and will keep doing so till there is no need." The image of Sirius leaned forwards a bit. "But after what I've discovered, that's not going to happen any time soon." He sat back slowly, as if weary, before reaching to one side. His forearm vanished out of shot before returning with a squat glass filled with amber liquid. After a sip he looked up once more.

"Okay, here goes... Guy's, you've got to get Harry away from the Dursleys, Molly and Dumbledore. The Dursleys treat him about as well as Vol... Vo... Bloody Hell! _Voldemort_ would us if he wins. I'm dead ser..." He froze, then closed his eyes as he groaned. "Sorry, wrong metaphor. Anyway, I'm serious about that. Harry needs to get away from those... I can't find the words for them. Oh, and Moony? Be sure to express to them the displeasure the Marauders feel about the treatment of the son of Prongs.

"Why Molly and Dumbledore you ask? Well, I recently learned some rather... disturbing things about those two, and their plans for Harry. From what I've overheard, Dumbledore's got plans for Harry's future, and Molly's in on it. But she's got her own as well, one's I don't think Dumbledore knows about. Dumbledore's convinced you're going to die Harry. He's convinced that you have to die before Voldemort can be beaten. But he's planning on making you a martyr, all to aid _his _cause. That old bastard's been manipulating things for decades. He may be 'The Leader of the Light', but it's not the Light that most people think of. He's really a Wizard-Supremacist, has been for most of his life. He just goes about it a different way from Voldemort.

"Molly however... I don't know why, but she's stealing from Harry's trust vault." Both Remus and Tonks gasped. "I know how much Arthur makes, and I also know how much Hogwarts tuition costs. There is no way that the Weasleys could have put all their kids through without another source of funds... and I saw Molly make sure she had Harry's Trust Vault key while she was staying here. I also suspect she was using his funds to pay for all the food and stuff the Order used."

From his side Hermione muttered "So that's what that withdrawal was all about..." seeing the looks on the adults faces, Harry mouthed 'later' to them before refocusing on Sirius's projection.

Sirius finished lowering the glass from his lips, before he sat for several second just staring into the remaining liquid within. Then he looked up. "Sorry guys, but Harry really should be there with you for this next bit. I just... can't find the words to do so assuming he's not.

"Harry, after you and Hermione rescued me from the tower… I knew I had to lay low. I already had a place in mind abroad, but I needed a place to stop over before heading to the Black Families tropical retreat. So... I went to your Families ancestral home. The wards still accepted me, as I had lived there for a time before getting my own flat.

"When I got there, I..." He gulped, taking another slug of whiskey. "I still can't believe it. But I found out why your parents wills were never executed. And before you ask, I can't tell you. I was sworn to secrecy. All I can say is that the reason is one you are going to like, and that 'it' is waiting for you at Potter Manor. Goldbag should pass to you the way to get there via muggle means – the manor is locked down against all magical transport right now. Trust me, _not even_ _Dumbledore_ would even _consider_ attempting to break the protections on Potter Manor as they are now." There was a diabolical grin on his face now.

"Now, while your Parents will's can't be executed – that's how Dumbledore got control of you, though it's not his fault for that – I was able to have certain items shifted from Gringotts holding to be passed to you at this time. Included is a letter from James. You should have received it when you turned eleven, but I know now that you never did. Dumbledore, as your assigned Magical Guardian, said you were 'not ready for such a burden'. Codswallop. While the Ministry won't overturn my conviction, which automatically renders my Guardianship voided, Gringotts has no problem with me, thus they agreed that for banking matters, I can overrule him. Sadly, there is little I _can_ do without tipping him off, and right now, I _really_ don't trust him to have your best interests at heart. He truly believes those old sayings like 'The end justifies the means' and 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'. He did it in the last war, you know. Sacrificed some us 'For the Greater Good'. Sometimes when it was pointless, and unnecessary." A dark look had entered his eyes, but after a moment he shook himself and looked up.

"Anyway, hopefully by now you're well away from them. And for Merlin's sake, Don't either of you two eat or drink _anything _Molly Weasley makes for you! That woman's been mixing potions; when I caught her once, she claimed she was doing some healing potions. She obviously forgot that I was decent at potions myself... and none of the ingredients she was using were used in healing potions. I'm not sure just what she was mixing, but don't take the chance!

"Now, about my will... Harry, I never thought I'd say this before you came along, but I'm childless. You and Lily changed my outlook on that. But I guess by now it's too late for me. As I'm the last Black, I have to name a successor under some Pure-blood law that's been around for centuries." He rolled his eyes. "Under the law, I have to pick someone who's a blood relation to me. And as the Black Family is Patriarchal, it has to be a male. So Harry, I named you." He smiled tightly. "It's a pain, as there are some... aspects, that I know you are not going to like, but I can't stand the other option.

"Speaking of that..." Sirius's grin turned devious. "There are a couple of things in my will, requests of my Heir, that I really think you should do. While I was slumming around this dump, I found the Marriage Contracts for my cousins. They made _very _interesting reading. Short version is that the bulk of the wealth of the Malfoys and LeStrange's comes from their marriages into the Black Family, as well as a lot of prestige. But what is really interesting is that there's a clause in the Contracts that allows the Head of the Black Family to annul the marriages because their husbands are Death Eaters. Use it, and you deprive Malfoy of a lot of his influence." His smile was now echoed by the four listeners.

Sirius sighed deeply, draining his glass. "Harry... I know that leaving you pretty much everything I own or am entitled to in no way makes up for loosing me. Despite what Molly said, I always knew that you were _Harry_, not James. I only hoped to share some of what James was like, and to help you overcome the set-backs you've suffered. I just hope you can use some of the money I leave you to make your life what you will.

"Which brings me to the hardest part of what I want to say." He looked at the empty glass for a long moment, clearly wishing that he still had a drink. After sighing, he looked back up, his expression serious yet uncomfortable.

"Harry... after what I saw and learned of your life at the Dursleys, I can understand why you'd have problems understanding others, especially girls and women. And your own feelings regarding the fairer sex. But I had hoped that after four years at Hogwarts, you'd have started to understand more. At the very least, you'd have seen what's right in front of you.

"I shouldn't really be telling you this, but I fear if I don't, you'll never figure it out and end up in some loveless, political marriage. Harry, there's a young women who's been by your side since you started at Hogwarts, despite everything, because she loves _you,_ Harry. Yes, I'm talking about Hermione. I saw it first when you had gotten me out of that tower. Then last year, during the tournament, she defied the whole school and stuck with you. I honestly thought that sometime last year you would have asked me for help courting her.

"Then, this summer gone I had the pleasure to get to know her better... and the _displeasure _of knowing Ronald. Harry, you have got to distance yourself from him. While Hermione reminds me of Lily, Ron reminds me of Peter. And the looks I saw him giving her... they reminded me of the way Snivollus looked at Lily.

"I remember when you all came back for Christmas. When you shut yourself away, Ron, your supposed _'best mate'_..." the quotation marks were clear in his voice "...just shrugged it off and proceeded to stuff his face, eating like... well, I would say 'like a pig', but that would be an insult to pigs. When I pressed him, he just snapped back saying, and I quote 'Harry's always running off to sulk about things.' It was clear that he didn't care about how you were feeling, just stuffing his face.

"Then Hermione came in. Stormed in, more like. Stunned the whole lot of us, tell the truth. And the first words out of her mouth? 'Where's Harry?' There was this look in her eyes, a mix of determination and concern."

At his side Hermione flushed red and bowed her head. Harry squeezed her hand gently.

"I knew, right then, that she'd came just for you. Left her parents just to help you. Despite everything, the way you'd acted over the summer, she still cared about you first, and loved you. I could see it, in her eyes. I hoped that during that holiday you would have gotten your head out of your ass and asked her out, at least."

Now it was Harry's turn to flush.

"Hermione... I'm sorry, but there are times when despite being so smart, you are quite naive. He's not good at saying it, but Harry is very grateful of everything you've done for him. He's been forced to repress his emotions for years. You _are _good enough for him, in body as well as mind: in fact, he likely thinks _you're_ the unattainable one. Harry doesn't need a fan-girl for a wife, nor a politically arranged one. He needs his soul-mate, and you're the one. I saw it the first time I saw the two of you together. I know that young women worry about their appearance by default, but you don't have to worry Hermione. Over the summer, I couldn't help but compare you and Ginny. I took note of the way you were different: she fussed over her appearance, spending nearly an hour adjusting her makeup and clothing." Hermione nodded, recalling the sight of Ginny sat before a makeup table, the surface covered in creams, lipstick, hair-brushes and other beauty products. And she was always very picky about her clothes. "You just brushed your hair, threw on comfortable clothing and were done. And you know what? When the two of you were besides each other, you outshone her every time." Hermione flushed a little as she glanced at Harry. It was true: she _had _considered herself too plain for Harry, not worthy of him.

"Harry doesn't show it often, but he's got a lot of his father in him. Including his taste in women. James couldn't stand fawning, girly girls, most of whom couldn't hold a candle to Lily's intellect. You may not look a great deal like her, but you remind me so much of her that I know you would have gotten along brilliantly. At times, I jokingly thought you could have been her daughter, but then Harry would be party to a level of incest that even the Malfoy's wouldn't stoop to." Harry and Hermione blushed red as they looked at each other. "The last family to go that far was the Gaunt's, and they went mad before dying out thirty years ago.

"The one other thing I have to tell you Hermione relates to your naivety. Despite your obvious misgivings, you followed Dumbledore's orders. And that's your biggest flaw, blind trust in authority. Despite how you felt, you trusted that the Headmaster knew what he was doing. That sort of blindness is going to get you into a lot of trouble in the future, and Harry. Authority figures are still people, and people always have agendas, preferences and opinions. Also, books are written by people. You're smart enough to understand what I'm saying." Hermione sat back, a troubled but thoughtful expression on her face, as Sirius sighed.

"Look, the two of you together are far more than you are apart. I want you to enjoy your life Harry, not spend it moping about my death, however it came about." He paused, lips twitching. "Well... unless it was because my heart gave out during a super hot orgy with three stunning babes. Then crow about how lucky I was till the stars fall."

Both teens blushed as they looked at each other, both thinking back to That Night in the Room of Requirement. In Harry's mind, all three witches could be considered 'Stunning Babes'... though that was a mark far short of reality, not to mention a little crude.

"You will beat him Harry, I believe you will, and Hermione does too. She'll do anything to help you, you know. With that kind of intellect on your side, Mouldie doesn't have a chance." Sirius smiled, before relaxing into his chair a bit.

"Remus, Tonks... sorry for ignoring you two just now, but I needed to get my advice to those two off my chest. You'll both get the details at the actual reading, but I'm leaving you both a substantial amount of money plus a few things that you'll get now, then, whatever... Those you either need a bit of time to put things into place or need right off. And don't try and pull that 'I'm a dangerous dark creature, not worth anything' routine with me Moony! I had had enough of that after five years at Hogwarts! You're only a beast one night a month. Women are beasts for three to five _days _a month!" Tonks gave a startled yell of disagreement as Sirius sighed.

"Remus... you're just as deserving of happiness as the next man. Stop torturing yourself about being a werewolf, there are several women out there who don't give a damn about that... and I strongly suspect one is sitting right next to you." Both Harry and Hermione looked across at the older two. Remus's eyes had snapped open before looking rapidly towards Tonks, who was blushing fit to catch fire. Her hair was turning as red as her cheeks.

"She may be closer to Harry's age than ours, but damn it Moony you can't throw a chance for true happiness away over such a minor thing. Take hold with both hands and don't let go. If you pass this up, then I'll come back, haunt and prank you for the rest of time." Sirius paused for a moment. "And buy some new, decent clothes damn it!

"Tonks... I ask only two things of you. One I know you'll do anyway, but the other... I suspect you'll have trouble with." Tonks was looking apprehensive now.

"One, look out for Harry. I remember how you were with him in that first year, despite only being six yourself. We never really thanked you or your mother for looking after Harry on those few nights when me and Moony managed to get James and Lily to take a night off and relax! She was devoted to you pup, doting almost, but not pampering." Harry hung his head a little at Sirius's words.

"Right now, Harry needs all the help he can get, as he's besieged from all sides. Voldemort's the obvious threat, as he wants Harry dead. He's convinced that Harry is all that is stopping Him from attaining everything he wants. He and his Death Eaters are a threat to everyone while they're alive. Azkaban didn't dampen their hatred and spirits. Seriously, and all joking aside, the Order has to get serious about taking them out... permanently.

"The second threat to Harry is our own Ministry. You know about what Umbridge is up to at Hogwarts, and we all know just how corrupt Fudge is... and how spineless he is. Once Voldemort reveals himself, the fop will fall in seconds. Until then, he'll continue the smear campaign against Harry. And after, he or his successor will likely try and use Harry as a symbol, but he'd be a puppet, dancing to support whatever the Minister's stance and agenda is, while not actually doing anything to stop Voldemort. You told me that you joined the Auror's to bring criminals to justice, make a difference, but the rampant corruption was getting to you, so you know I speak the truth.

"The final threat to Harry is Dumbledore. Yes, I ask you to distance yourself from him, before he binds you too tightly to him to think for yourself. That's what he doesn't want, people who think for themselves. And I just know at some point he's going to start asking you to use your talent to further his own ends. You were raised by a muggle-born cousin, so you should know about how they are brought up. The magical world is so far behind the Muggle one in so many areas it's not even funny, but the old man wants us to step _back_ to his time, putting us even further behind. That way lies disaster."

Sirius leaned back in his chair now, hands in his lap. He sighed before speaking again. "Whatever happened to me, I want you all to live long, happy lives. I know, better than most that sometimes it's not worth it just to exist. Don't spend the rest of you lives in grief and sadness... and don't you dare try and get yourselves killed! I'm going to be with my best mate, no need for the rest of you to join us for many, many years yet." He suddenly jumped, looking beyond them.

"Got to cut this short, Dumbledore's back. I just wanted you all to know that I wish you all the best, and that me and James will be cheering you all on. Harry, marry that genius bookworm and live a long, happy life. We'll be watching over you. Remus, lighten up. Tonks... feel free to use a collar and leash." With one last grin he raised his wand.

"Mischief Managed." And with those words his image faded away.

* * *

For the next couple of minutes, everyone was quiet as they absorbed Sirius's words. Hermione kept her arm around Harry, giving him comfort while she thought over what Sirius had said. In many ways he had mainly confirmed their own thoughts and suspicions regarding Mrs Weasley and the Headmaster. But it was nice to have a second opinion.

She could see that both Remus and Tonks were affected by what Sirius had said, though Remus appeared to be wavering between grief and outrage, while Tonks had a giggle at the corners of her mouth. Hermione was sure that was due to Sirius's comment about a leash.

His own words about herself and Harry however were forefront in her mind. Even after they had decided to try being a couple, she had been constantly fighting away her own self-conscious issues and worries. Despite everything that Harry, Susan & Daphne had said, and the unexpected but welcome change from the Curing, the old insults and put-downs from her first school and Hogwarts lingered in her mind. 'Buck-toothed, bushy haired, beaver bookworm' still echoed in her ears, along with others like 'Mangy Grangy' and 'Bossy know-it-all nightmare'. For years, when ever she looked in the mirror, she only saw her imperfections. It was part of the reason she never lingered before one, never cultivated an interest in beauty products.

But now Sirius, who before his stay in Azkaban had been known as a bit of a player, had outright told her that she was prettier than Ginny without even trying. That made her pause. Ginny Weasley was considered to be one of the prettiest girls in their year bracket, and up there for the whole school. She was tempted to dismiss Sirius's claims that she was prettier out of hand as it had become habit, but she found herself hesitating. Sirius had pointed out several things that she knew were true. Ginny's habits regarding her appearance, Ron's lack of concern for Harry...

"He's right." Harry's quiet words pulled her from her thoughts to look at him. His emerald eyes were damp at the corners, but he looked steadily at her. When she raised an eyebrow in question, he nodded slowly. "You are pretty... No, more than that. You're beautiful."

She hung her head, smiling even as her face heated up. "Harry..." She began,

"No Hermione, you are beautiful." He cut her off before lifting her chin with one hand so that he could look into her eyes. Hermione looked back, allowing herself to sink into those shimmering emerald depths. Deep within, she saw the truth of his convictions: he truly believed what he was saying. Under that gaze, those voices curled up, whimpered and died, un-mourned and forgotten.

A deep, but polite, clearing of a throat made them both look to see Goldbag sitting there, patiently waiting for them to return their attention to him. From the corner of her eye Hermione could see that Remus and Tonks were glancing briefly at each other, but before she could divine the root cause Goldbag spoke.

"As part of these proceedings, I am to distribute the following." He lifted a small bundle of envelopes from his side before passing them out, one at a time. The first slide to a stop before Harry, and he picked it up as another slide over towards Remus. A thick, heavy one stopped midway to Tonks, who had to lean forwards to reach it as another stopped before Harry. After one came to her a third came to Harry.

Both of them stared at the third envelope. The parchment it was made of was yellowed with age, and on the front were the words 'Harry James Potter' written in an unknown, elegant male hand. With a trembling hand Harry slowly picked up the old letter, setting the other two down between them as he did. Hermione, after a quick look to Goldbag, placed both in her handbag to review later, but her thoughts were fixed on the letter in Harry's hand.

A gasp from the other end of the table made her look towards Tonks, who was staring open jawed at several sheets of parchment in her hands. Besides her Remus was looking at a set of documents he held, tears gleaming in the corners of his eyes. In his other hand were a set of keys.

"The late Sirius Black requested that these be distributed at this time, to ensure that certain parties would not be able to contend. These will be made official in the Official Will Reading next Friday. You four are to have a copy of the attendees." He passed out four folded sheets of Parchment. Seeing that Harry was still looking at the old letter, Hermione took hers and Harry's for now.

"That concludes our business today." Goldbag stood up from his chair. "I expect to see all four of you here in a week's time for the official reading of the full will." The look he gave them clearly stated that he would be very irritated if they did not show.

Hermione nodded, then noted that Harry was still staring at the unopened letter in his hand. Shaking her head slightly, she rested a hand on his shoulder before giving him a shake. "Harry?"

Blinking he slowly looked up at her, his eyes distant.

"Come on, it's time to go."

Harry looked at her blankly for a moment, before slowly getting to his feet, the letter still held in his hand. Sighing, Hermione led him out of the bank, nodding goodbye to Tonks and Remus before turning to face him directly. "Harry?" she asked, worry entering her tone now.

Slowly he drew a deep breath before looking at her, the normal spark not fully back, but without the blank, lost look he had had before. "Sorry Hermione... it just..." he glanced at the letter again before passing it to her. Understanding his unspoken request, she placed it in her handbag with the other letters. "What now?"

Hermione looked at her watch. "Just past half twelve... lets head up to the Cauldron. I know you want to speak with the twins some more."

Harry nodded as they started walking. "Yeah. I think some of what they've made could be useful in another situation like... the Ministry." She squeezed his hand when he hesitated. Hermione understood that it was still a raw event for him. They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence.

Reaching the shop they stepped the narrow alley to the side, down to the private entrance. Once more Alicia opened the door for them, gesturing them inside. Within they found the twins had come down to the rear, workshop area of the store. And on the table before them were a number of items and vials.

"Welcome back Harry!" They chorused.

"Hi guys." Harry answered them simply. Hearing the lack of cheer in his voice the Twin's turned serious. Harry gestured to the table between them, raising an eyebrow.

"Harry..."

"...Esteemed benefactor..."

"What we have here..."

"...is a selection of what we can offer." The left twin lifted up a plain, muggle baseball cap. "For instance, this ordinary cap..."

"...is now a Weasley Shield Hat!"

"Stops minor school yard hexes..."

"...and weakens nastier ones something fierce!"

Hermione cut in before they could continue. "How do you do that?"

The twins looked at her, then Harry, before finally each other. After a few seconds, one moved to a side bench and lifted out another hat from a box. Bringing it out he handed it to Hermione upside down. Looking at it, she could see that an inner seam had been opened, allowing the excess fabric to be lifted. In his other hand he held a narrow strip of something.

"Rune's engraved into a thick bit of card..."

"...charmed to be impervious, of course..."

"...hidden under the brim."

"We layout the runes..."

"...the ladies engrave." One waved towards Alicia and Angelina, who were off to one side while the other passed over the strip. Hermione ran her finger along the surface. She could just feel the engraved runes, very finely carved into the surface. A few she recognised right off, but a few were unknown to her.

Harry was looking between the hat and the former chasers with a speculative look. "How are you at engraving metal?"

* * *

Half an hour later they stepped back outside, Hermione with a perturbed expression on her face. What had happened rankled her upbringing, but that same upbringing emphasised freedom of choice. How could you argue with someone who willing chooses to be slave?

The former chasers had admitted they needed to practice, but were confident they could achieve the same thing in metal. Harry had said that was fine, as it would take some time for him to get the items he was thinking of to them. The sudden 'Pop' had startled all of them, but the following conversation had startled her more.

Dobby had arrived, asking if 'Master Harry Potter Sir' wanted things moved about. When Harry had said yes, Dobby had told them both that he could and would do so... if he could become 'The Great Harry Potter's Elf.'

Hermione had been horrified, and Harry clearly flabbergasted. However he had regained control of his mouth first and asked the vital question 'Why?' Dobby had, with much praise of Harry, told them how House Elves needed to be part of a Family, to be bonded to a witch or wizard, to maintain their magic. When Hermione had pointed out he clearly _hadn't _lost his magic, Dobby had told her that the ambient magic in Hogwarts had sustained him. And he so wanted to be Harry's elf.

They had both thought he was happy to be a Free Elf, but then he'd said something that had stunned them both.

"Dobby is very happy to be free of old, horrible master. Old Master made Dobby punish himself all the time, and used Dobby for target practice."

It was a few seconds later that his full meaning had sunk in. It wasn't being free _per se_ that Dobby had been happy about; it had been being free of the Malfoys. When Harry asked this, Dobby had confirmed that he had been ecstatic to be free of 'Old Master', meaning Lucius Malfoy. Mistress however, had not been as bad. While she had never treated him as an equal like the Great Harry Potter, she had also never ordered him to punish himself, and had thanked him on occasion; more often in the later years. Young Master however, had been even crueler than his father.

Harry had looked at her then, and Hermione had realised that he was asking her permission. Horrified, she'd told him no, he couldn't enslave another being. Dobby had told her that the House Elf Bond was not slavery, but a bond formed based on trust. Dobby would become Harry's most trustful servant. It was then that Harry reminded her of Susan's family elves.

Hermione had no counter for that. Susan was warm, caring and morally centred. It had been abundantly clear that she had cared deeply for the elves bonded to her family. And Harry also reminded her of what she and Daphne had told her, back at Hogwarts just after Harry had been cured. She had looked at Dobby, staring up at her with those large eyes, and found herself asking herself; could she really deny him what he wanted?

The final nail in her resistance was Dobby informing her that a House Elf magic's power was in proportion to the power of the witch or wizard they were bonded to, as was their health, hence why Winky was slowly wasting away, as she had no bond. And she already knew that Harry was scarily powerful.

In the face of such facts, she relented. Reluctantly, grudging, her ingrained sense of righteousness and upbringing protesting, but she had agreed to allow Dobby to form the bond. But ONLY if there was an exit clause that Dobby could use at any time. But one look at his face told her that he would never use it. He'd become Harry's Elf, and would die as such.

After swearing the bond oath, Dobby had visibly shaken with power before popping away... only to return a second later with the boxes from the Jewellery store. It appeared that even he was amazed at the power he had now, as he was looking at his own hands in wide-eyed amazement. Hermione had also noted that he seemed to have gained some weight in just that brief period of time. His arms were more muscular, his face less gaunt. And she would swear he'd gained at least two inches in height.

Together the four had gone over each piece, discussing what protections and other enchantments to put on each. Alicia and Angelina had both been shooting envious looks at her as they took notes, but also curious ones when Susan's and Daphne's names had been mentioned. Finally it appeared that they could no longer stand it and hauled her out of the discussion and through a door in the back. The room they entered looked too modern to be part of the shop. Alicia had explained quickly that they were renting the muggle flat that backed onto the twin's shop – one of the reasons they went for that shop in the first place – and were using it for the muggle stuff, such as the engraving. Before Hermione could question more however she had been barraged with questions regarding her, Harry and the other two witches. Under their dual assault, she had been forced to admit to the multi-way relationship they were exploring. They had in turn congratulated and commiserated her about it. Alicia had jokingly asked if there was room for another, but at Hermione's shocked expression she told her not to worry about her, but they had better consider that some other witches might try to get in it as well.

It was as they emerged into the Alley itself that she was brought back to the present. "Harry! Hermione! Mind lending a hand with this?"

Both looked up at Daphne's exasperated call to see her and Susan standing in the middle of the Alley, each one with several bags in each hand. It was clear that they were struggling. Harry took a step forwards, but before he could go further Dobby appeared next to the two witches. With a snap of his fingers the bags vanished, leaving them holding their handbags and receipts. He was gone before any of them could say a thing.

Daphne was staring at the spot where the elf had stood. "Was that Dobby?"

Harry nodded. "It was. He'll be around a lot now."

Susan looked at him acutely. "You took him on?" She asked softly.

Harry nodded once more, sneaking a guilty look towards Hermione.

Hermione sighed, deciding not to make an issue of it right now. "You two done?"

Daphne nodded. "Yes. We were just on our way to the Cauldron."

"So were we." Hermione waved a hand behind her. "Just finished up with the twins. They're doing the enchanting of the jewellery Harry got."

Susan eyed the shop with a slightly worried expression. "Are you sure that's wise? They do have a reputation..."

"They won't do anything like that." Harry said with total conviction. "In matters such as this, they don't play around." He linked his arm through Hermione's; the three witches had agreed beforehand that publicly, Harry would only be dating Hermione. "Come on, let's eat."

* * *

In the Ministry, Arthur Weasley looked up as he heard the door to his tiny office open. It took him a moment to register that it wasn't Perkins who stepped through, but his eldest son Bill. He started to smile, but then Bill's expression became clear; a mixture of shock, regret and disbelief.

"Bill? What's happened? Why aren't you at Gringotts?"

Bill sank into the chair across from him. Collapsed, more like. He looked distraught as he looked up.

"Father, I have some bad news..."

* * *

**A/N: **And that's it for now. Next time we'll follow our foursome as they spend a bit of time in Diagon, and go over what Sirius had passed to Harry.


	20. Touch From the Past

**A/N: **I have to admit, I'm not totally happy with the first half of this chapter, but can't a put a finger on what exactly is the cause. Once again the plot bunnies got away from me a bit though. One note about Hermione in this chapter (and the next): I'm a lot like her (I'm a mix of Hermione and Neville I think), so I've given her one of my traits: I don't swear until I am _really_ angry. So too is this Hermione.

**EDIT: **Argh, a couple of reviews have pointed out that I left a bit of an abandoned plot idea in this chapter before posting it. If you missed it, don't worry. Comes with not having a Beta anymore...

* * *

A few minutes later Harry's group reached the Leaky Cauldron. It was still quiet, despite being early afternoon. There were a couple more patrons, but everything was still subdued. Those eating were hunched over their food, as if afraid to be recognised.

After a few words with Tom they were sat in one of the booths along the side, Butterbeers before them – except for Daphne, who'd chosen Gillywater. Harry had originally been going to ask for a private room, but Daphne had suggested that they use his fame for good for a change. At their perplexed expressions, she explained that if Harry Potter was seen eating in the Leaky Cauldron as if nothing was wrong, then it might help with the sense of fear running rampant. After a moments thought, Harry had agreed.

Daphne smiled nervously at him across the table. "Sorry about putting you on the spot like this Harry..."

Harry however waved her off. "Daphne, it's okay. You explained _why_ you thought we should do this." After a mouthful of Butterbeer, he continued. "You also didn't say I _had _to do this either. You gave me the option, not tried to force it on me."

Smiling happily now, Daphne reached across and squeezed his hand affectionately. Besides him Hermione was also pleased. Harry had shown that he would listen to ideas from them, but more importantly, accepted Daphne. Her background, a Pure-blood sorted initially into Slytherin, could have counted against her. She hailed from a background more in keeping with Malfoy, and while she understood that he had no love for the politics of the Old Families, from what she'd learned, it was something he was going to have to deal with somehow; ignoring them would be inviting disaster.

Looking at Susan, she gestured to the red-heads handbag. "So, find anything of interest?"

Susan nodded. "Quite a bit, actually. The potions shop was mostly empty of useful, premade mixes..."

We think others have been panic buying." Daphne put in. Hermione nodded slowly. She'd half expected that.

"...But we did get a lot of basic and semi-rare ingredients quite cheaply." Susan finished. She then frowned as she took another mouthful. "In fact... everywhere we went, we were getting things cheaper than I thought."

Daphne was frowning as well. "Now you mention it, you're right. I distinctly recall that book on warding in Florish & Blots being at least half as again must last year..."

At a subdued sound all three of them turned to look at Hermione. The brunette witch blushed a little.

"We can visit again after lunch Hermione." Harry said softly, correctly interpreting the mixed expression on her face. Smiling broadly, she leaned over and kissed his cheek for being such a thoughtful boyfriend.

"Have to make time for Madam Malkins as well though." Daphne said through her smile. At the other two's looks, she elaborated. "We stopping in earlier to sort out our robes for Hogwarts." All four thought back to what McGonagall had told them after Malfoy's last attack. Daphne then looked at Hermione with a apprehensive expression, but before she could speak Tom came over levitating four plates expertly.

"Sheppard's Pie and chips?"

"Here." Harry and Hermione said together. Ever since the cure, they had all had stronger, larger appetites. Madam Pomfrey had explained that they had all burned up a lot of energy in curing Harry. While Susan and Daphne's had returned to normal, Hermione and Harry were still eating heartily; she to help her body recover from the curse that had struck her down, and Harry not only as he had expended more than the others, but also to help him make up for his years of malnourishment and neglect at the Dursleys.

Once the other two had their orders, Hermione looked back at Daphne. "You were about to say?"

"We uh... told her about our... changed attributes." All four blushed at her admission, Harry the worst. "Including yours. She's doing our new school robes now." Daphne paused, before continuing. "I also think we should all get some formal wizard attire, especially you two. For the actual will reading next Friday. And, like it or not, once you gain your inheritance, you are going to have to deal with the other Noble Houses. Proper dress for that is... expected."

Harry was silent for a long moment, slowly chewing, mulling over Daphne's words. He understood what she was saying, but the distaste for the Pureblood elite of the magical world lingered. Could he really work with such... people?

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Susan share an anxious look with Daphne... and he regretted his thoughts. Both of them came from such backgrounds, as did Sirius. So did his father, from what he'd been told. And he looked up to Amelia Bones, while Eleanor Greengrass had been very pleasant. And then there was Neville. Could he really take Malfoy Senior as the normal? Maybe, considering the mood he got from the Wizengamot last year, but even so there were good families...

After a moment longer he nodded in acquiescence. "Maybe you're right." He said slowly, before fixing Daphne with a stern look. "But don't expect me to play nice with Lucius if I meet him at some function."

"We wouldn't expect you too." She replied quietly, hoping her voice didn't reveal the mixture of fear and excitement that pulsed through her under his intent look.

Soon after they were once more walking down the Alley, Harry setting an example by boldly striding down the centre. He ignored them, but the others noted the way that the other people on the street noticed and stared at him as he walked openly by them. Hermione saw that many straightened up and stopped cowering.

On entering Madam Malkin's the older witch looked up from her counter. "Ah, perfect timing. I just finished your new robes." She stood up and walked towards the rear, the four teens following in her wake. "Most unusual, I must say..." She half muttered to herself. Pausing by the fitting area, she indicated a pair of boxes sat on a low table. "Please try them on dears. Want to make sure they fit."

Nodding in understanding, Daphne and Susan walked over to the table. After a moment they picked up a box each and moving into the changing rooms. As the curtains closed with a squeak madam Malkin turned to Hermione.

"Now then... Miss Granger? I barely recognised you!" As Hermione looked back with a confused expression, Madam Malkin looked her up and down. "Goodness, you've grown into a lovely young woman!" Hermione's expression faded into an embarrassed blush. "Your friends said that you're robes were damaged too?"

Hermione nodded. "Torn jumper and skirt. Professor McGonagall fixed them..." She trailed off however as Madam Malkin shook her head.

"Never the same again dear. No one knows why, but clothing doesn't hold magic very well. Now, hop up onto the stool, and we'll soon have you with new robes." She looked towards Harry, standing quietly to one side. "Mister Potter?"

Harry shifted on his feet. "They suggested I acquire some formal wear..."

The elder witch just smiled. "Why don't you have a look at the racks, to see if something springs out at you, while I tend to Miss Granger here?" As he nodded she turned back to Hermione, measuring tape already emerging from a pocket.

To take her mind off what Madam Malkin was doing, Hermione watched Harry as he walked along the racks, though she was unable to not react to the older witch reading out her measurements, every one of which was being recorded by a hovering dicta-quill. "Hips thirty-three and a half... twenty-five waist... Thirty-three and five eighth's under-bust, over-bust thirty-eight and seven eighth's... very impressive Miss Granger. Though not as impressive as Miss Bones... forty-one and an eighth..." The last she muttered to herself in an incredulous tone, shaking her head as she did. It was clear she was still a little stunned at such a measurement.

The good thing about Madam Malkin, Hermione thought, was that she could take such precise measurements without having her stripped naked!

"Now Miss Granger, do you want the standard cut, or would you prefer something a little different?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, the robes for the first five years are all standard." Madam Malkin said as she measured Hermione's arm. "But the upper two years are allowed fitted robes, and to change some elements. After all, they can now legally leave school and get a job. So the uniform rules are relaxed a little."

Hermione's eyes widened at this titbit. Now that she thought about, the upper two years _had_ had slightly varied robes and the like. "What do you recommend?" The older witch stepped back, one eyebrow raised as she looked Hermione over once more.

"Depends on how much you want to flaunt what you have. I expect you're more comfortable in muggle clothing? In that case, how about lighter weight open robes, worn from the shoulders?" At Hermione's nod, she stepped back before returning with several fabrics.

From across the shop Harry watched as the two went through the fabrics, madam Malkin making notes on a sheet of parchment as they did. He couldn't see any difference from where he stood, but he guessed that he'd need to be closer to tell. The clinking of a curtain being pulled back drew his attention, and he turned to look.

He had to take a deep breath at what he saw.

Daphne had finishing changing, and now stepped out in her new school robes. The outer robes fastened at her waist, drawing the eye to how slim she was. Below her skirt ended just over her knees. Above that narrow waist the robes framed her new jumper with its red and gold piping... a jumper that had a much lower neckline than her one last year. Her shirt however had a high collar, from under which a double tailed, ladies tie emerged. It took him a moment to remember seeing a similar style before: her mother had worn something similar to their barbeque. As she turned to step onto a free stool, Harry saw that the robes just ran over the swell of her breasts, rather than to the side.

At the sound of the other curtain being opened, Harry took another deep breath to steal himself. There was just no polite way to say it: it was impossible to hide the fact that Susan had large breasts. It had been the start of Third year when people began to notice how the lines of her shirts and robes fell. Harry had a few times wondered how she could be comfortable over the last year; her jumpers always seemed strained, taut, and she hardly ever wore her robes closed, as it was obviously too small for her. And the couple of times when she finally relented and removed her jumper during the DA sessions – it was easy to work up a sweat – he'd tried very hard not to notice that her shirt gaped, revealing tantalising glimpses of what lay beneath.

The Susan Bones that emerged from the changing room looked far more comfortable than she had back at Hogwarts. While she still had her impressive chest, the jumper was not stretched taut like before. Her shoulders were not pulled forwards but back in a natural pose. The outer robes were worn loose except at the collar, billowing slightly as she stepped out. The neckline of her jumper was more in line with the old robes, and she wore what looked like a normal school tie.

As she too stepped up onto a fitting stool, Susan saw Daphne running a finger over the trim on her jumper. "Feels odd to be wearing Gryffindor colours, doesn't it?" She asked.

Daphne nodded. "Very. Down in the dungeons, the only things red and gold were used as target practice." Her eyes moved, and a satisfied smile formed on her lips. "Harry's watching us."

Susan looked back into the mirror in front of her... and had to stifle a girlish giggle when she saw Harry's reflection. The boy was standing there with his jaw hanging low. It wasn't as low as he'd been at the Ball fourth year when he realised it was Hermione alongside Victor Krum, but it still warmed her.

Madam Malkin came over, inspecting the fit of their robes. "How's the fit?" She asked aloud.

Susan's smile grew as she rolled her shoulders before drawing them back... and pushing her chest out. She'd never dared do so with her old shirts: She'd had visions of all the buttons bursting off. "Excellent." She replied.

Daphne however had a small frown. "Seems a little loose over the bust..." She trailed off at the satisfied look on the elder witches face.

"That's good. Since you had no explanation for your sudden growth spurt, we can't rule out it happening again." She carried on even as the young witches blushed. "So I've made your new uniforms with some extra room up top, just in case." Ignoring the bright red flushes on the two girls, she turned to face Harry, who was standing there slack jawed. "See anything you like dear?"

* * *

It was with hurried steps that the four of them left the shop a short while later. Harry led, trying to hide his reaction to what he'd heard inside... and to the figures his three – girlfriends? Companions? – cut in their new robes. They weren't revealing or anything like that, but he still reacted.

It was halfway down the Alley before anyone spoke again. "Harry?" Hermione asked, drawing level with him. There was a troubled frown on his face. He sighed before answering her unspoken query.

"We're going to have a problem when we get back to Hogwarts." He looked across at her. "You all looked good in your robes." He hesitated, then pressed on. "Surely Malfoy's not going to be coming back?"

Daphne sighed. She hated having to be the one to tell him, but he and Hermione were simply unaware of the answers. "Harry, I've heard it said that the Magical world is a hundred years behind the muggle one. Well... in some case's that true, but social-politically... it's closer to four hundred."

Harry sighed again, while Hermione's mouthed in an 'Oh' of understanding. With that fact, it was much easier to understand how Dumbledore was unassailable, how Draco could get away with what he'd done. Everything expected of teachers in the Muggle world had been crafted within the last hundred years, if not less. Add in the effects of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and it was no wonder those two were untouchable. At least for the moment.

Putting aside that troubling thought, Hermione led the group back towards Charring Cross station. As they made their way down to the underground, her attention was caught on the letters that were sitting in her handbag as she reached in for their tickets. She knew that Harry would put off opening any of them indefinitely if he could.

It was not until they were on the platform waiting for the train that she had a chance to raise the issue.

"When do you want to look at those letters Harry?" She could see the nervous, worried look in his eyes, but pressed on. "I ask because some time next week would be ideal for you to check out Potter Manor." At his confused look, she continued. "My parents are taking the next month off, like they do most years. They don't have any plans this year, so they can drive us around."

Harry seemed to be warring with himself, before sighing and letting his shoulders slump. "Alright. It's just..."

Hermione smiled and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I understand Harry." Both Susan and Daphne mirrored her actions, prompting a small smile from him. At that moment the tube emerged from it's tunnel and rumbled into the station, turning their attention to boarding and finding space.

It was too noisy on the tube to do anything about the letters, so it was not until they found seating on the train to Brentwood that they had a chance to do so. Hermione led them to a corner of the carriage, where two sets of seats were facing each other. As it was a local, slow train, there were very few other rail users in their carriage. _'All to the good,' _she thought to herself. _'Less chance of us inadvertently revealing the magical world.'_ Although there were times when she felt the secrecy culture in the magical world was the root of many of it flaws, she also was aware of the likely reaction by some of the more radical sections of society.

As the doors slid closed with the hiss of air rams, Hermione was already reaching into her handbag to retrieve the letters. After a look to Harry, she opened the first letter. Inside was only a few sheets, a set of handwritten directions and a couple of hand drawn maps. Spreading the maps on the small table between the seats, the four of them looked each over. Quickly she worked out the general location.

"Harry, Potter Manor's in the northern regions of Epping Forest!" She smiled. "That's not far at all from us!"

Harry smiled with relief. "So not somewhere like Wales?" He gestured to the maps and the directions. "Can you follow those?"

Hermione nodded. "Sure. It's quite easy to follow actually." Then her eyes narrowed slightly. "Whoever wrote this must have been muggleborn..." Shaking her head slightly to rid herself of the slightly paranoid thought, Hermione reached for the second letter, the one containing details of Sirius' final wishes. Withdrawing a thick bundle of parchments, Daphne's eyebrows rose when she saw the top sheet: It was a Marriage Contract.

"I hope that's not one for me." Harry said with a gulp.

Hermione shot him a cheeky smile. "No… unless you want to marry Bellatrix Black."

"Urgh! Hermione! She's like what? Fifty?"

Hermione looked at the contract before her. "Forty-five." She answered, skimming over the details. She was amazed at the convoluted clauses and terms used. This thing read like it was written three hundred years ago!

Then her eyes reached a section that someone, likely Sirius, had marked with an arrow and a very large exclamation mark. Her eyes widened at first, but then her expression changed to one that the other three had never seen before.

It was an evil grin. Which got even widen when she looked at the second contract that had been underneath.

"Oh… Malfoy's going to totally flip when he finds out about this!"

When the others saw what she'd seen, they too shared the same dark smile. Some evil sounding chuckles escaped when they saw the full ramifications of what Sirius had discovered.

Draco Malfoy was in for a very, very, _very_ bad shock and reality adjustment come the will reading.

Most of the rest of the documents did not contain surprises, but then they reached the penultimate parchment.

"Wait a minute here: Auror Tonks is closely related to Malfoy?" Daphne asked, one eyebrow arched in confusion.

"Yes. Her mother is Andromeda Black, elder sister to both Bellatrix and Narcissa. They're Tonk's aunts."

"Ouch." Susan winced. "Guess she wanted to redeem the family huh?"

Harry shrugged. "In comparison, aunt Petunia's not that bad…"

Hermione whirled to cut him off. "No, she's worse! Bellatrix is a murdering psycho, but your aunt inflicted torture of the worst kind on you! LeStrange can inflict physical pain or death. Your aunt, however... What she did was emotional and mental abuse! In the long term, that's far, far worse!"

Harry shrunk back from her, seeing both Daphne and Susan nodding with her. "Point taken." He waved a hand towards the parchment in Hermione's hand. "About Tonks?"

Pushing her fury at the Durlseys back down, Hermione looked once more at the parchment that would reinstate Andromeda Black into the Black family, along with giving the Family Blessing to her marriage to Theodore Tonks. "About the only thing I can think of is that they may not want it." She shrugged. "Let's give them the option. I think she might have already gotten something about this during the meeting."

Harry nodded, thinking back to the large envelope that Tonks had gotten. His amusement at recalling her face when she saw the contents was interrupted when Hermione all but screamed.

"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL!"

Her loud yell drew the attention of everyone in the carriage, and Harry looked up guiltily. Fortunately, there weren't any children in the carriage. "Sorry! Shocking discovery!" He then turned to Hermione. "Hermione!"

She looked at him, and Harry found himself inching backwards from the sheer fury in her expression. He'd seen her angry before, but this was a new level, one even greater than the one he'd seen her turn on Ron at the end of term.

Too furious for words, Hermione just held the bundle of parchment so that the other three could see the front sheet. The second he saw it, Harry understood her anger right off.

_House Marriage Contract_

_It is agreed by thou signees below, as the Magical Guardians for the named pairing, that thou groom, _Harry James Potter _of House _Potter_, and thou Bride, _Ginerva Molly Weasley _of House _Weasley_, be wed on _August 11th_ of the year _1997_, in a life binding, exclusive marriage with no options for other Contract Marriages or Line Continuation Contracts, including Consort Contracts. Reasonable steps to engender mutual feelings between the Bride and Groom are permissible, up to and including mild love potions. Spells, Charms and strong Love Potions (such as Amortentia) are not permissible, and use of such will be a violation of thou contract._

_It is also agreed by thou signees that, in lieu of a Bride Price, that House Potter will fund up to half the value of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry tuition fees for all Weasley offspring of this generation (list attached below)_

_This contract can not be voided unless either of the Guardians are unable to deliver on thou agreed terms (see attached terms) or thou Guardianship of either the Groom or Bride be altered before thou agreed date._

_Guardian for the Bride: _Molly Weasley

_Guardian for the Groom: _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

_Dated: _February 22nd, 1982

Harry sat back slowly, his eyes hard. "They agreed this barely four months after I lost my parents?"

Hermione nodded. "Ginny wasn't even a year old, and already Molly was planning out her life…" The disgust in her tone was obvious. She looked once more at the repulsive contract in her hands. She wanted nothing more than to rip it apart, but she knew it would do no good. Clearly stamped on the front was 'COPY'. She knew that she'd have to go through the whole thing soon, but right now she couldn't. Sighing in resignation she tucked the various sheets back into the envelope.

She paused when she set it down. There was just one thing left: James Potter's letter. With a tiny tremble she picked it, staring at the names written on the front. James writing was much like Harry's actually, though quite a bit neater and less of a scribble, more refined. But the way he formed the letters was the same.

Turning her head, Hermione saw that Harry's eyes were locked onto the letter, a shadow of dread in them. "Harry..." you really ought to read this." She said quietly. She desperately wanted to know what was contained within the letter, but knew that Harry was the only one with the right to know.

For a long moment he didn't move or say anything, but then slowly he raised a hand and took the letter. Hermione ignored the tremor in his hands as he slowly opened it and withdrew the parchment within. Unfolding it, he visibly steeled himself before starting to read.

It was spell binding to watch him slowly read. Hermione noted that Harry's face was displaying little emotion, but his eyes were dancing along each line, brightening and flaring at some points, turning dark at others.

Towards the end she was startled to see tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes, and he seemed on the verge of another breakdown. As his eyes unfocused, she knew what he needed. Wordlessly she slipped her arm around him and pulled his head towards her shoulder.

Harry went willingly, tucking his head into her neck and hiding his tears in her hair. His own arm slid behind and around her, while his left hand, still holding the letter, was held before her loosely. With only a slight tug she was able to pull it from his fingers, and in response his left arm encircled her waist.

Feeling his arms around her Hermione was unable to prevent a blush from filling her face even as she turned her attention to the letter, while at the same time stroking the back of his head with her left hand.

_21__st__ October, 1981_

'_My dear Son,_

_If you are reading this, then both myself and your mother are dead. Of course, since you are reading this letter that means you are alive, so you know that already. Know that we would have died to save you. You are the most important thing in the world to us, never forget that. Harry, I hope that what memories you do have of us you keep close to your heart._

_You should know about Lord Voldemort, also known, to his distaste, as Tom Marvolo Riddle. Shortly before you were born Harry, Sybil Trewley made a prophecy regarding him, and that there would be one born who could defeat him. I know how she must come across. I met her shortly afterwards. But Albus was there when she made it, and he fully, totally believes it to be true. He's the one whose pushed us into hiding away in a obscure location, away from our well known fortress that is Potter Manor. His reasons make sense... of a sort. But I don't fully trust him any more. He believes he is infallible, that he always has the right answer. __No one__ is infallible. Mark my words, his pride will be his downfall. He's not an evil man, but he's allowed his own legend to blind him to reality, and he hasn't changed with the times. He still sees the world as it was pre-1900. All the muggle's advances over the last century he has missed, along with the social developments. It's a fault of his up-bringing Harry._

_I hope you would already have him as a friend Harry, but if not, you must seek out the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, Neville. Believe it or not, the prophecy could apply to him or you. Hopefully, by now it is known just who it pertains to. If it's him, then do everything you can to help him. If as I fear it's you, then gather his support, as well as others. If there is one truth in the world, then it is that there is nothing more important then having friends. And in a fight, having a friend at your side will save your life more than raw power or any number of spells. Well, actually there is something better. Having the one you love with all your heart by you is even more powerful. Voldemort does not believe this, which means that you will have an advantage over him. And trust me, you'll need every one you can get. We've faced him several times now, along with Frank and Alice. It was only because we worked together that we've survived. Of course, this has annoyed Voldie, but I find that amusing actually._

_Now, if we have died while we were in hiding, then you need to know something. We let everyone think that Sirius Black, one of my two best friends, was the secret keeper for the house we're going to be staying at. But actually we have Peter Pettigrew in that role. Voldie knows how close I am to Sirius, and that sick bastard will use friends and family to attack his targets. But don't use that as an excuse to push people away Harry! Sure, let them know the risks, but don't you EVER think to decide for them if they are too much! Let your friends prove their worth by standing by you despite, or in spite of, the dangers._

_By now I'm sure you want to know all kinds of things about us. Well, I think you should know that our family goes back a long way, and that when you are able to claim your inheritance you'll be one of the richest young men in England, maybe the world. I hope that all that wealth doesn't go to your head though. Money is not important. It's nice, but the really important things in life cannot be bought. Things like Friendship, and Love, and Respect._

_My years at Hogwarts were filled with pranks on those 'pureblood' bigots and fools. It is hard to fear someone when they are neon green and have a banana for a nose! At that time the 'Blood Purity' movement of today was still in it's infancy, but even then I knew it was wrong, and I swore to fight it anyway I could. I only had to look back at our family's history to know I was following the Family Tradition, to fight Darkness wherever it may lurk. And the movement also offended our family as well with their beliefs._

_You see, it has become almost a tradition for the Potter offspring to marry muggleborns, rather than get involved in all that 'pureblood' nonsense. Not to say we won't marry a pureblood, but it has to be for love, not for political or financial reasons. My mother Dorea was a pureblood, but it was love that brought my parents together, not some agreement between their families. In fact, I suspect she married my father to spite her family, The Blacks. Yes, Sirius's family, but he completely rejects everything the rest of them stand for, with only his cousin Andromeda breaking away. Fact is, quite often the muggleborns outperform their 'pureblood' counterparts. This has caused quite a bit of hatred and jealousy to make some use the term 'mudblood'. This term is __intolerable__, and I expect you to stand up to any who use it!_

_But I must confess, that for those first few years, I was almost as bad as them. I didn't go around promoting myself or slandering others, but I was arrogant and headstrong. It was your mother who showed me just what I was becoming. It shook me, deeply. I have spent the years since trying to repay her for what she did, which looking back now, I see as an act of kindness, though it didn't feel like it at the time. I was not a nice person to some of those bigots._

_There is one such man, in particular that I fear I must warn you about. His name is Severus Snape. The 'man' is an oily, greasy git, but he does know his potions. I know he lusted after your mother for a long time, but I'm very happy to say she never returned his affections. They had been friends for a few years before they came to Hogwarts, but they drifted apart over the years at Hogwarts, finally splitting at the end of our Fifth Year._

_Your mother, Lily, is the sweetest, gentlest, kindest woman I have ever know. Until she gets angry, then she's a tigress! She's a muggleborn, and for her first few years was considered a plain, bossy know-it-all. That's another thing that we Potters look for in our spouses. Intelligence._

_I have to admit that I didn't really notice her until our third year, when her inner beauty began to surface. She may have been 'plain' in first and second year, but in her sixth that was not true by a mile. Photos, even wizarding ones, don't do her justice now. But she'd be the first to tell you that you cannot know a person just by their looks. What lies within is what really counts. We are all more than just a face or who our parents were._

_Harry, our family has always had a closer bond with the muggle word than most, so we are more 'aware' of the muggles and the progress they've made. If it came down to war between wizards and muggles, they'd win hands down, despite the 'pureblood' believing otherwise. Never underestimate muggles Harry. They have come up with ways to do nearly everything we can, and many we can't, without the benefit of our 'gifts'. I suspect that by the time you are reading this, they could do anything. I have learned so much from your mother regarding the wider world, that sometimes I find myself looking at the Magical World and despairing. It's not that they are 'Better' Harry, but they are not 'Inferior' either. 'Different' is the best fit, yet they are also the same. In the end, we are all human._

_There is not enough parchment in the word to tell you how much we both love you, and how we wish we were there to see you grow into the man I know you'll become. This is more Lilly's area than mine, but trust me when I tell you that wherever we are now we are watching over you and praying for you. I know that you must miss us terribly, but you have to keep on going. Keep your chin up, defeat that bloody bastard Voldemort, and live your life to the full. Find some smart, knowledgeable, beautiful young woman (muggle or witch, it doesn't matter), and never, ever, give in to despair._

_With all our love,_

_Your father,_

_James 'Prongs' Potter.'_

Hermione's eyes blurred as she felt tears form from reading the last paragraph, and wordlessly she leaned her head against Harry's, holding him tighter in her one armed embrace. Susan had already moved to kneel before him, hugging him, while Daphne had slipped between him and the carriage side, hugging him tightly from the other side. Gently the three young women held and comforted Harry, bathing him in their comfort, warmth and love.

* * *

Tonks shivered as she made her way down the steps from London Bridge to the riverbank. It was late, and while true darkness was still an hour or so away, the shadows were deepening. Once more she wondered why Remus had asked her to meet him under the north end of London Bridge. Thinking about his request brought her thoughts back to when he asked her. There had been another Order meeting, where once again Albus had droned on about ensuring Harry was protected and safe, while at the same time making sure to give him room to grieve and come to terms with his loss. Tonks had barely managed to contain her snort at that. He didn't care, not a jot. He just wanted Harry kept tucked away. Fortunately, both she and Remus had managed to wrangle being Harry's guards for the first couple of weeks, she took the nights, he the days. It worked out since most of the others had jobs that they had to attend to.

Of course Snape had been as horrid as ever. But she'd noticed the hostility that radiated off Minerva towards the greasy one. If looks could kill, the Potions Master would have been burnt to a crisp in an instant from her glare. From the way the Deputy Headmistress had looked at Albus every now and again, it appeared that she felt that he was preventing her attacking Snape then and there. Tonks hadn't a clue as what he had done to earn such ire, though there was a rumour floating around that Madam Bones had received several detailed letters regarding him from various sources shortly before her attack. Amelia had called all the Aurors who were part of the Order into a meeting the other day, and had told them that she would not stop them attending the meetings or even working with the Order, but they had to decide who they would follow in a crunch, her and the Law or Dumbledore. Tonks had wrestled with the question for a bit, but after some thought had gone with the others, and reinforced their oaths… to Amelia and the DMLE.

Amelia had smiled, and told them she was proud of them. But she warned them that some point soon she hoped to bring Snape to court for trial, on many, many counts. Given the way Dumbledore protected him, she needed to know that when she gave that order, they would follow it, and not allow Dumbledore to browbeat them into submission.

After some comments about the just announced reading of Sirius's Will – along with small diatribe from Snape directed at her cousin – Dumbledore had dismissed them all like school children. If as she was leaving that Remus had asked her to meet him. And while she'd really just wanted to go home and crash, Tonks was still hopeful of there being something more between her and the older werewolf.

Stepping into the foundations of the bridge, she heard the sounds of the river tides sloshing over the steps even further down. A quick right-left, and she saw the outline of a man leaning on the stone parapet ahead, looking over the water that flowed under the steel and concrete expanse overhead.

Approaching cautiously, she waited until she was sure it was him before speaking. "Charming place Remus."

For almost a minute he didn't speak. When he finally did, the raw emotion was clear. "I used to come here a lot, after… well, after."

Tonks nodded slowly, understanding what he was trying to say. She heard him sigh deeply.

"I was a wreck Tonks. One of my best friends was dead, along with his wife that we all loved in some way, betrayed by our other best friend. Or so I thought. I tried to find out what happened, but when Dumbledore told me what happened..." He hung his head.

"…I went home and crawled into a bottle."

Tonks, tears beginning to run from her eyes, laid a hand on his arm. After a few moments he continued.

"I became an alcoholic Tonks. For six years I just wanted to forget. And all that time Harry needed me." His hands clenched into fists.

"Dumbledore told me he was safe and looked after, and I believed him, trusted him. I abandoned my pledge to James and Lily to look after Harry if the worst should happen. I let that old bastard send me away!"

Tonks said nothing, thinking back to the previous summer. She'd been recruited by Moody to join the Order, on the belief that they were actually doing something about Voldemort… though she wouldn't deny that she had a secondary goal; getting to know her cousin, the truth, not the lies in the Prophet. And yet, since she'd joined, Dumbledore's directions and instructions had been… odd. They were playing defensive, not acting against the Death Eaters. Having a watcher at Privett Drive had made some sense, but the guarding of a corridor in the bowels of the Ministry? Dumbledore had never revealed why they had to be there, just that they had to. And like the rest, she'd followed his orders, despite her confusion, simply because he was Albus Dumbledore.

But now? Now she doubted. Now she wondered just what was going on in his head, what games he was playing. Ever since the barbeque at the Grangers Tonks had been thinking and looking once more at everything, bouncing ideas and thoughts off her mother. Andromeda Tonks did not have the same reverence to Dumbledore that others had, and her comments and thoughts had been insightful… if disturbing.

As she had told Sirius, the rampant corruption at the Ministry was dragging her down. More and more she felt that no matter what she did, the criminals went unpunished. Gold, not morals, controlled things now. The farce of Harry's trial highlighted just how bad things were. If Amelia had not returned a couple of days ago, Tonks likely would have thrown in her badge.

Now she was faced with another dilemma. Everything she'd seen and heard of late flew in the face of her upbringing. In their world, Albus Dumbledore was a revered, god-like figure. A Champion of the Light and the oppressed. But he was still human, and humans were flawed beings. She understood this, as her job was to deal with those who allowed their darker sides to reign. The question she now faced was simple: could she go against such a powerful and legendary figure? Would she do what she felt in her heart was right, or bow and follow him?

It only took her a second to decide. And when it cam down to it, was not that hard at all.

"Whatever you do Remus…" She laid a hand on his tightly clenched fist. "…I'm with you. And Harry of course."

Remus lifted his eyes to look at her. There was a yellow gleam to his warm brown eyes, and she felt his hand unclench beneath hers. He smiled tentatively, and she smiled shyly back, gently squeezing his hand. Wordlessly he slid his hand out from under hers before moving it behind her, across her shoulders and gently pulled her into his side, their eyes still on each other's. No words were spoken. None were needed.

Tonks rested her head against his collarbone as her arm went round him in return. There, under London Bridge with the sound of the Thames sloshing against the stonework below, they both vowed to support Harry... against any who threatened him.

* * *

**A/N: **Now don't painc regarding the contract, I've got that covered. And I promise Harry's going to start developing a backbone very soon.


	21. Of Wives and Men

**A/N: **First off welcome back! Hope you don't mind if I give a little history to this chapter. This was one of the first sections I wrote, shortly after the 'Cure' scene and Bill's visit. It helped me set up the premise for the rest of the story. Now, let's rejoin Harry and his ladies... with a detour to Fleur...

* * *

The next morning everyone was tense, subdued. Harry and Hermione were still thinking about what had been in the message from Sirius yesterday, along with the letter from James Potter, and the implications and shocks. Both Susan and Daphne were eager to know, but knew not to push. Emma and Nathan decided to treat the day normally; the teens would talk to them when they were ready.

As the morning went on however, Daphne grew more and more concerned. Piecing together what she had been told and what she knew, she was able to make a good guess as to what her two muggle-raised friends, especially Harry, had been bequeathed. Yet, due to that upbringing, she knew they would not understand the full implications. Sighing to herself, she decided to wait until the evening before bringing the issues needed up. This was a topic that they needed to have, but without any outside viewpoint. While she honestly thought highly of Hermione's parents, Daphne was still wary of revealing just how backwards the Magical world was compared to theirs. Hell, _she _was uncomfortable with the subject they had to talk about, and she'd been raised in that culture!

* * *

Sunlight streamed down onto them as they sat at the small table he'd placed on the balcony. The wine was a decent southern France export, one she liked, and the food was a nice combination of a lighter English meal with a French dessert. Her favourite, in fact. He'd clearly pulled out the best china he had, and had even done some house cleaning while he was on enforced leave from Gringotts. Clearly, he was making a huge effort.

But… Fleur could not enjoy any of it. The food barely registered, the wine seemed tasteless. She'd known coming home that she had to hurt him… badly. Seeing all this… it just made her heart ache more.

"Is there something wrong?" She looked up into Bill Weasley's earnest eyes, so obviously filled with concern and care for her. How was it that the same two people could have such radically different offspring, she mused. Bill, the eldest of the Weasley children, was a true gentleman, so unlike his younger brothers. Charlie and Percy she'd not met properly, but the others had filled her in on them. Fred and George were die-cast court jesters and inventors, and she'd always found their humour infectious. The two still had some things to learn in her opinion, but neither was malicious or cruel. They laughed freely, always striving to ease the tension.

But then there were the two youngest siblings. Ron was, frankly, scum. Fleur found herself almost repulsed by his total lack of manners, courtesy, intellect… lack of anything besides an ability to consume mind-boggling amounts of food in one sitting really. Fortunately he was so weak-willed her Allure, even muted, rendered him almost comatose. At least in that state he was incapable of doing anything to try and attract her favour. It helped Fleur immensely in her quest to simple ignore his existence.

Ginny however had been a different matter. It was clear the brains that had skipped Ronald had joined with Ginny instead. Like the twins, she had a sharp sense of humour. But unlike theirs, hers was cruel. Put downs and insults under a thin veneer of humour. Fleur had not been unaware of what the youngest Weasley had been saying behind her back… often with her mother agreeing with everything. It had both enraged and sickened her, But Fleur had been determined to prove herself the better woman, and had thus not allowed her inner feelings to show around them. Only Bill and Tonks had learned of the hurt and anger she felt.

Fleur paused in her thoughts then, a memory returning. Last weekend Ginny had gone with her Father to visit the twins… or so they had said. But Fleur had noticed that they were both acting a little furtive, and her own Veela enhanced senses had told her that they were not being totally truthful. When they had finally returned that evening, there had been a fundamental change in Ginny, and to a lesser extent Arthur. Ever since Ginny had not been like she had been the week previous. No barbed comments, no put-downs or snobbish actions. No, she seemed pensive, her thoughts clearly inward focused. And from the expressions on her face, they were not pleasant thoughts.

Shaking off the thought, Fleur returned her attention to Bill, who was sat across from her looking mildly concerned. Looking into his eyes again, Fleur had to fight down the impulse to sob. She knew that he'd noticed how she had acted differently this week just gone… ever since she'd come back from that Barbeque at Hermione's… where Harry was now. Fleur had been grappling with herself ever since, her mind saying one thing but her body another. Curse her Veela heritage! Nearly everything that had gone bad for her in her life could be laid before that aspect. From her delayed, but rapid puberty, which had resulted in her loosing touch with her pre-teen friends. They had entered puberty like everyone else, but she'd remained a 'little girl' till she was almost fourteen. They'd drifted away, uncomfortable with an apparent child hanging around.

Then after her growth spurt, her Veela nature had polarised everyone. Her beauty and Allure enraptured all but the strongest willed men, while provoking anger and jealousy in the women. She'd had few friends in her mid to late teens, as the girls were worried about her inadvertently - or not – stealing their boyfriends away from them. And the men who fawned over her were the sort that she couldn't stand. Being a Veela, even a part one, subjected one to their tastes. Veelas', instinctively, sort out strong willed men who could resist their allure. A high magical potential was a bonus. Most of those Fleur had met in her life had been unsuitable, because of age or circumstances.

In fact, the first one who she had briefly considered as suitable had been Harry Potter.

From the onset, it had been clear to her that underneath he was one of the strongest people she'd met. His force of will and moral centre were ideal, and his magical power… he'd practically _reeked _of power! The age gap was not a huge barrier, certainly not in a few years time.

However… there had been something… _off_, about him. His outward meek manner clashed with what she sensed underneath, and there was an air of loneliness about him. While she could sympathise, there was more to it than would be explained by a reclusive nature. There was something… dark, about it.

And then there had been his aura. All beings had one, but only a few beings could sense them. Humans could to an extent, those who were so gifted being those with greater empathy and intuition. Veela were well attuned to reading auras; it was part of how they chose their mates.

When she'd tried to read Harry's however… she'd run into a darkness that distorted, corrupted his aura, hinting at pain and horror, torture and death. Ideas anathema to Veela who were, at their most primal level, being's of intimacy and pleasure. Fleur had not a clue as to what caused it, but it frightened her.

So she'd backed off, cast away those idle thoughts of approaching him in a few years time, and carried on looking.

Bill had been a gem. While not as ideal as Harry had the potential to be, he was head and shoulders above everyone else. Fair minded, strong willed and with a decent magical strength, he was, as her mother would say, 'a good match'.

It hadn't been that hard to fall in love with him. He was caring, intelligent, and had a level head on his shoulders. He'd been out into the wider world, and so was not as introverted and stuck up as most of the British wizards were. Most of all, he appeared to either lack or have a very good grip on his temper, something that his mother and youngest siblings didn't. Fleur had been able to see herself growing old with the tall redhead, content with her life.

Typical though that just when her life was looking up, her Veela heritage would have to screw things up once more.

It had been when she'd greeted Harry at Hermione's. She'd truly not expected him to be there, and out of reflex she'd brought her complete attention to him. What she'd felt and sensed had sent a shockwave through her. The Darkness and corruption were gone! His aura was pure, radiant… as close to Veela 'Holy' as one could get. Her inner Veela had instantly been snared, the desires coursing through her without control. It had been only through force of will that she'd held things together as well as she'd had. Ever since she'd tried to dampen her bodies desire for him, remind herself that she'd made her choice… and just from the evidence of her own eyes, Harry was already intimate with at least Hermione, and likely the other two. Her Veela senses had told her that they had gone further, together, before. There was a bond of some sort between the four of them. They did not need an older Veela trying to muscle in on their relationship. But her Veela heritage would not be satisfied with Bill Weasley. He'd been instantly cast aside, and now her dreams were populated with images of emerald eyes and raven black hair.

She had finally accepted that she'd never be able to settle for Bill, not while there was Harry. She wasn't even sure she could settle for anyone _but _Harry, but that was her problem, for later.

Right now, she had to deal with Bill. For while she was no long able to love him like she had, she still respected and was fond of him. That was what made things so much harder… and more painful.

Clearing her throat, Fleur set down her fork. "Bill… you remember what I told you about Veela?" It had been one of their earliest conversations; she'd been able to open up and share part of what it was like being a Veela.

Bill nodded slowly, setting down his glass. "Something's come up because of that, right?" he asked quietly. There was a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

Fleur nodded slowly, tears beginning to form in hers. "Oui Bill. Veela use many ways to find our perfect match… or az close az we can find. _You_ _'re_ ze best, far, far better zhan any other…"

"…But someone's come along and ensnared that part of you." Bill spoke softly, not accusingly.

Fleur nodded once more, a single tear running down her cheek. "I did not want zhis Bill! I _was _'appy with you! I tried to resizt, not to…"

"Fleur." Bill said gently, moving a hand over to cover her own. In his eyes she could see sadness mixed with concern. "I'm not angry with you. I understood what you said back then… and what you did _not _say. I've always known, in the back of my mind, that something like this could happen someday."

"But eet's unfair to you!" She wailed, tears now running down both cheeks. "I'm trying not to act like zhose Veela's in your mothers articles, yet I find myself zhinking of him all ze time!" A sob escaped her control as she bowed her head. "I feel like I'm betraying you…"

"I don't blame you for this Fleur." Bill continued to speak calmly, though a thread of pain could be sensed beneath his words. "It's part of you, and without it, you wouldn't be you. Am I disappointed? Yes. Upset? Of course. But angry? No." Bill sighed deeply before he spoke once more.

"I'm not going to try and stop you Fleur. I have to admit that I couldn't help but think that what we had was too good to be true…"

"Eet would 'ave been Bill! I was 'appy, eager even to zettle down with you, Molly be damned!" Fleur burst out, her eyes lifting to meet his once more. "Please believe me!" She pleaded.

Bill now lifted her hand and kissed her knuckle. "I do Fleur, I really do. I can tell that you don't want this as much as I don't, but we can't change things like this. I'm not going to act like my brother Ron, bemoaning everything that's not how I want it." He paused to take a shaky breath before releasing it slowly. "I don't even hold it against whoever it is that's captivated you. It's not his fault, just like it's not yours."

Fleur could see in his eyes that he really meant what he was saying, as unbelievable as it seemed. He truly did not hold her heritage against her. Smiling slightly, she stood up to step around the table to sit on his lap. Despite her inner Veela craving Harry's touch, she still felt attracted to the older man, and she kissed his cheek softly. "Zhank you for being so understanding."

Bill chuckled slightly. "I won't say I won't be trying to drown my sorrows tonight, so I won't." He wrapped an arm around her stunning figure. "Nor I am going to say that I wish this didn't happen. But it did, so we have to deal with it." He hesitated, an unsure look in his eyes.

"What iz eet Mon ami?"

Bill swallowed nervously. "I… I don't have the right to ask, but… do I know who it is?"

Fleur sighed. "Eet's 'Arry."

Bill frowned. "Harry, as in, Harry Potter?"

Fleur nodded. "Oui. Something'z… changed, in 'im. His aura iz pure now, not twisted as eet was before…"

Bill groaned. "Oh Ron's going to be even more insufferable now." Then his expression brightened. "Still, at least he's a good man. And it could have been someone worse… like Snape."

"Bill!" Fleur snapped, eyes narrowing to slits. Her free hand turned palm upwards, the fingers curled inwards as sparks danced between them.

Bill recognised the danger signs instantly. Ron hadn't, and had nearly been roasted alive for it. "Sorry, poor joke." After she had relaxed – and the threat of a fireball forming in her hand was gone – Bill relaxed too. "I hope that you'll remember me fondly, even while you're in his arms."

Fleur smiled sadly. "Always non ami. Always." Then her smile turned a little mischievous. "Maybe I'll make eet up to you someday… I do know a few cousins who are looking for a good man…"

Bill smiled warmly. "They wouldn't be you Fleur, but thank you for the thought. But I think you should focus on approaching Harry. And Hermione. You sure they're intimate with each other?"

Fleur nodded firmly. "Zhere iz no mistake. Zhere iz love between zhem… and I'm almost sure eet's spreading between zhem and ze other two."

"Well then, you'll have to approach them carefully. I haven't had much contact with her, but everything I've heard and seen tells me Hermione is not someone one wants to cross lightly. Or at all, really."

Fleur nodded, having reached the same feeling. She would have to approach them very carefully, making her case and position clear from the onset. _'But at least, papa won't have to worry about our line dying out anymore.'_ She thought idly, before refocusing her attention on Bill.

"In any case, zere will _always _be a place for you Bill. I believe zhat 'Arry could do with your expertiez as well. Your knowledge iz impressive."

Bill smiled, feeling better about himself. He remembered everything that had been floating around so far this summer, and knew that Harry was in the centre of everything. He'd already sworn to help anyway he could. If it took a sacrifice on his part – letting Fleur Delacour go – to help Harry, then so be it. As he'd said, Harry was a good man.

* * *

While Bill and Fleur were talking, Harry and Hermione were tidying up after the evening meal. Her parents were out with friends, an invite to a work do. Thus the four had to feed themselves, not an issue with Harry, though it had been almost a fight when Doddy had appeared, determined to cook for 'The Great Harry Potter'. Once more, Hermione had been struck by the physical changes in the little elf. He _looked_ strong, toned. A House Elf hunk. A hunk dressed really weirdly.

It had been Susan's comment about he must have the female House Elves falling all over him that reminded her of Winky. When she asked, Hermione had been shocked to see Dobby look away nervously. When Harry pressed him on the topic, Dobby had revealed that Winky was wasting away faster than before. With the students gone, the castle had less ambient magic for her to soak up. He reluctantly admitted that he doubted that she'd survive the summer at this rate. At that point, Harry had looked at her, and Hermione knew what he was thinking. Once again Hermione had to think: if the only way to save someone's life was to enslave them, did one do it? Would someone choose slavery over death?

While she was still convinced that it was wrong, and that the House Elves saw it the way they did was due to how they were raised, she had realised that in the end it was Winky's choice to make. Hermione did not have the right to impose her choice on her. It would have made her as bad as Dumbledore. Seeing in her expression what she'd worked out, Harry had given Dobby orders; to tend to Winky until she was able to speak and think clearly, get her on her feet enough to make it to them. Then she would be offered the choice to bond with any one of them there, or to House Potter as a whole. Dobby had almost bounced through the ceiling in joy before disappearing. Harry had sighed before returning to whipping something together for the four of them.

After a tasty but simple meal, Harry and Hermione were tidying up the kitchen when they heard a throat clearing. They looked up to see Daphne stood in the doorway nervously. She hesitated before speaking. "We... need to talk." Hearing the serious tone in her worried voice both teens followed her through into the lounge, where Susan was already sat reading. She looked up with a wide smile as they entered, though it dropped when she saw the look on Daphne's face.

Harry sat down next to Susan on the sofa, with Hermione on his other side. As one all three looked at Daphne. "Okay, what's the matter?" Harry asked. Ever since the pair of them had returned from the private reading of Sirius's Will, Daphne had been withdrawn and quiet, her face clearly showing that she was troubled by something.

Daphne sighed before sitting in one of the armchairs. "First, I need to explain a few things." She said leaning forwards.

"I don't know just how much you two know this, or how much you've picked up, but our world is controlled by the elite, Pure-Blood men. Nearly all the laws are written by them, to protect them and their property. Mostly, women are seen more for providing the next heir of the family." She held up a hand to stop Hermione starting a rant. "It's wrong, yes, but it's been this way for hundreds of years now.

"Now, not _all_ the old, noble families are like that, but most are. Blood Purity is a great concern for them. That's how He-Who…" She paused at the look Harry was giving her. "Okay… V…Vol…Voldemort, gained so much popularity before he revealed his true colours. He gave a voice to the 'Blood Supremacists'."

Harry chuckled lightly, drawing the attention of all three girls. "I guess no-body knew he's actually a Half-Blood then…"

Daphne's jaw fell. "What? How did you…!" Hermione yelped.

Harry smiled faintly; He skimmed over this part when he told them about that encounter. "Down in the Chamber of Secrets, before I faced the Basilisk, I found myself actually talking to Tom Riddle, the echo of the boy who owned that diary. He told me who he really was. Tom Marvelo Riddle, named for his father, a muggle. If you rearrange the letters, you get 'I am Lord Voldemort'. Not sure about his mum though."

The three witches were silent for a long moment. "Okay… that's, unexpected." Susan finally stated.

Hermione nodded, then faced Daphne once more. "Interesting as this is… You were saying Daphne?"

Shaking herself, Daphne resumed her impromptu lecture. "Anyway… As I was saying, the Elite Pure-Blood Men control the government, the laws, everything they can. I heard that of the ten Hogwarts Governors, eight are old family men." She looked towards Susan.

"It make's your Aunts achievements even more remarkable Susan. But she's almost certainly not going to get any higher than she is now. Traditionally, when the current Minister is sacked, the head of the DMLE steps in to run things until the Wizengamot vote in a replacement. But, given the sexism at play, I suspect they'll skip over her and elevate Scrimgour to the role of Acting-Minister."

Catching the look of disgust on her face, Hermione turned to look at Susan. "You know this man?"

Susan nodded unhappily. "Yeah, I do. Head Auror. Showy, more concerned with looking good and 'dashing' rather than actually doing work. Delegates most of his duties to his underlings, then takes the credit when they succeed, but none of the blame when things go wrong. If he was made Acting-Minister, he'd likely have anybody he doesn't like arrested and claim they were Death Eaters just so he could _say _he's doing something."

"Honestly!" Hermione snapped. "How could someone like that get to where he is now? And how could he get away with it?"

Daphne sighed once more. "How they all get anywhere, by trading in on the family name and connections. 'Who You Know' and 'Who Your Parents Are' are the things that are most important. As well as the amount of gold they throw around. Hermione, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but to the majority of them, you'll always be an… 'uppity mudblood whore', not fit even to be some rich man's concubine, no matter who you married or what you achieved." The disgust in her tone for the label was clear.

Harry frowned, then his expression faded into one of confusion. "Concubine?"

All three young women looked at him in surprise. Then Hermione muttered darkly. "God damn those Dursleys…"

Daphne shook her head slowly. "I'm not sure what the terms mean in the muggle world exactly, but in the Magical World there are three officially recognised levels of a woman's involvement with a man; Concubine, Consort and Wife.

"A Concubine is basically a sex-slave Harry. It is a semi-permanent bond between a witch and a Wizard; the wizard can annul or transfer the bond as he chooses, but the witch can't. Her will is often completely suppressed, though it does depend on their 'master'. Most witches who become Concubines, remain so till the end of their days. Fortunately, the only truly legal way for a woman to end up in that situation these days is via an owed Life-Debt. It used to be that a witch could be sold off as a one at auction by their magical guardian, but that system was busted open and closed down just before the turn of the century." She grinned suddenly. "It was a Potter who led the operation. If I recall correctly, the young woman he had only a few weeks before proposed to went missing, and he went after her. Tore half of Magical Britain apart looking for her if you believe everything told, before he stormed into the auction house where she was going to be sold. Rescued his finance and over a dozen other young witches in the process.

"Anyway… The Consort is sort of a second class wife. She can speak for the Family and act in their behalf, and gets a decent allowance and a set inheritance should the man she's consorted to die, though all that depends on the contract she has with the wizard. The children can either take the Family name, or their mother's name, and any sons will inherit the family if the wife bore none. A consort can leave to marry or consort to another man, if everyone agrees. If she does however, she looses all rights to the old family name and money.

"There is a bonus to being a Consort. For an old family which had no male heirs, it provides a way for the young witch to carry on the family name, as it is rare to find a wizard willing to forgo his own family name and take up hers." She looked at Susan softly. "Susan's a prime example of this: no brothers, no other heirs to the Bones family. She can't marry without losing the family line, unless she becomes a Consort.

"Now, the Wife is the most powerful and prestigious. She's second only to her husband, and the head of any women in the house. If they have a problem, she's the first port of call. Depending on her husband, she can take any role he could, including sitting on the Wizengamot if he chooses not to himself. It's a big thing though to be a wife though, as normally it's for life. Only the man can start divorce proceedings, the woman can't, though the Head of the wife's birth Family can. Any sons she bears will inherit the family name and holdings, the oldest first.

"There is also one last thing. While a man can have as many Consorts as he wishes, provided he can both afford and find willing witches, and as many concubines as he has witches own him life debts, he can have only one wife..." Daphne paused. "...usually."

Harry about to ask what she meant with that last statement, but Hermione could not contain herself anymore.

"That system is so barbaric! Why, it demeans women completely! Under those rules, Harry could claim every witch in the school as a concubine, since he killed the basilisk that could have killed everyone!" At his shocked and pale expression, she calmed down a little. "Not that I expect you would Harry. You're too noble to do something like that."

Daphne smiled lightly. "I don't think that would work anyway Hermione. The threat of that monster was too defuse, too random. He could claim Ginny as one..."

"No, never!" Harry yelped. "She's bad enough as it is! Besides, it'd make me no better than the Dursleys, or Voldemort." His head dipped a little. "Or Dumbledore, really." After a moment he looked up again at Daphne. "What did you mean about a man 'usually' only be allowed one wife?"

Daphne smiled softly, happy that he'd picked up on that. "Harry... Sirius made you his heir, didn't he?" She asked gently. At his stiff nod, she pressed on. "Had he not, the _entire_ Black estate would have passed directly to Draco." The scowls that formed on the other three teens faces mirrored her own feelings regarding that. "And he'd be in the position you're in now."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked nervously. _'What now?'_

"Harry, the _only_ thing more important to those old farts than 'Blood-Purity' is the preservation of the Noble Lines. So many houses were wiped out during the Grindelwald war, and the first rise of V… Voldemort, that the remaining lines are terrified of any more dieing out. Mainly since whatever is in the vault of a family that is completely destroyed automatically becomes Gringott's." She smirked. "Their so terrified of anymore gold being 'lost' to the goblins that even the most racist Supremacist will beget a heir with a muggleborn, or even a muggle. Though I'd expect the child would be taken from the muggle on birth, with the poor woman being _obliviated _of the knowledge of having the child."

Harry felt sick at the thought, though a glance at Hermione drove that away. _'Oh shit! She's furious!'_

It was only a couple of second later that Mt Hermione erupted.

With the explosive force of ten Krakatoa's.

"THOSE SICK, TWISTED, EVIL, SCUM-SUCKING..." She shot up out of her seat and began striding around the room, a constant string of insults emerging from her mouth at ear deadening volume. Harry's eyes widened as she continued, and he looked at the other two girls. Both Susan and Daphne appeared just as shocked as he was.

"…FILTHY SONS OF DROOLING INBRED WHORES AND HIPPOS…"

'_Bloody hell Hermione!'_

"…HEARTLESS BASTARDS!"

Seeing that she had stopped, at least for the moment, Harry leaned forwards and grasped her hand in his own. "Easy Hermione…" He half whispered soothingly, gently pulling on her arm. "…You know how we feel about you… how I feel." He all but dragged her down between himself and Susan, and as she sat they both wrapped an arm around her still trembling shoulders. Both knew it was from rage.

"I won't let anything happen to you Hermione. You know that."

Slowly, taking several deep breathes, Hermione calmed down, feeling the warmth that soaked into her from both sides. At last she looked at Daphne once more. "So where you going with all this Daphne?" She asked calmly. At least on the surface.

Daphne flushed. "As Harry is now the sole heir to two Noble Houses, he's exempt from the 'One Wife' rule. Instead, he _has _to take a wife for each line. He can't have one wife to continue both lines, and he's not allowed to combine them either. If he doesn't at least get at the very least betrothed within a year of his coming-of-age or emancipation to two women, then Draco, as the last remaining male descendent of a Black - his mother - will get the Black Family name and fortune. Then it's up to him to take two wives." She pulled a face of disgust. "I pity those he chooses."

Harry slowly sank back into the sofa, his face a mask of shock. Hermione frowned when she saw this. Harry was being offered most boys' wet dreams on a silver platter! Hell, there'd be witches throwing themselves at him naked when this got out! But by the look on his face, she knew he was terrified at the prospect. "What's wrong Harry?"

"How… how can I possibly ask two girls to marry me? I'm just… Harry. The only thing people see is my bloody title and money. I don't know a thing about girls… women, whatever. How the hell am I supposed to care for several women?" There was an incredulous tone to his voice, and Hermione sighed in frustration as she recognised the source. After all those years at the Durlseys, Harry had no sense of self-worth. As much as he didn't come out and say it, Harry still believed deep down that he was the lowest, most unworthy person on the planet. That his lot in life was only pain, loneliness and death.

"I mean… I'm a marked man." Harry continued. "It's not safe for anyone to be around me. Everyone who's cared about me has died. Besides, I haven't a chance against Voldemort. He's too powerful and experienced. I'm nothing special…"

"HARRY, YOU STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!" Hermione had heard enough! She spun round and sat down astride Harry, her eyes inches from his own. He looked up, and tried to push himself through the sofa when he saw her blazing eyes. "Harry you are not worthless! You are a loving, caring, gentle man who will stand up to anything to protect people! Those are all worthy traits! Talk like that I just heard is the Dursleys talking! You accept their view, and they have won! Damn it Harry, do you really think I'd fall in love with a dead man? You believe that I could love someone who is not worthy of my love? You think either Susan or Daphne could love someone who was worth nothing?" Tears were beginning to run down her cheeks now but she didn't care as she continued to glare into his eyes. "Harry, I love you, for who you are! I've loved you for years now! I've seen you at your worst, and I still love you! What do I have to do to make you understand? What must we do to get you let go of all this pain and anguish you cling to? How can we give you hope, when you deny it to yourself?" She couldn't maintain the stare any more, and she collapsed into sobs on his chest. From both sides the pair of them were engulfed in hugs, as Daphne had moved to sit in Hermione's old spot on Harry's left.

Harry wrapped his arms around her, shocked at her outburst and breakdown. Her words rang through his head as he leaned back slightly, cradling her against him. He had very rarely seen Hermione lose it like that before, and each time it had been pretty serious.

Then he realised the words she'd used. She said she loved him for years now. He'd wondered, hoped, but had never assumed. But now, she'd said the words.

And didn't she say that Susan and Daphne were in love with him too?

Was this the reason Daphne brought this topic up, aside from punishing Draco some more? He could see now that they could use the system – twisted, sick and disgusting as it was – to legally keep their multi-relationship going, and no longer have to hide it. He'd sensed that there had been times when the other two had wanted to show their feelings, but had to hold back in public. At least, in the Magical World, they could act without restraint.

Drawing his thoughts back to the moment, he stroked Hermione's back. "Hermione… I hear what you're saying. It's just… hard, sometimes."

Hermione sniffed. "I'm sorry Harry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that…"

"Don't be. I needed it." Harry smiled wryly. "Likely will again."

A small chuckle escaped Hermione's lips. "Definitely. And I'll keep telling you off until it sinks in."

"That's my Hermione."

She sat up now, a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth. "'Your' Hermione?" She asked with a light teasing note.

Harry gulped, but decided to answer truthfully. "Well, yes. I mean... if you want to remain that close to me…"

"I do, Harry." She half whispered, hugging him once more.

For a few seconds Harry warred with himself, unsure if he should say what was on his mind. Finally, he decided how. "So… if I asked you to… marry me…"

Hermione broke out into a broad, happy grin. "Yes, Harry, yes!"

Harry smiled warmly. "Don't you think I should ask your parents permission first?"

Hermione giggled. "Oh they won't say no." She sobered a little. "Though… we will have to wait a little while." At his look, she explained. "You can marry at sixteen with parental consent, Eighteen without. At least, in the muggle world…" she looked over at Daphne, one eyebrow raised.

The blond smiled. "Almost the same. Sixteen and seventeen."

Harry now looked thoughtful. "So… that's one…" he muttered, clearly thinking aloud. He looked at Susan. "Was Daphne right, that you can't get married?"

Susan sighed. "Pretty much. The only way I could, would be if I found a man willing to give up his family name and take my own. About the only one's who would do would be third son's and the like, who had no chance of getting their family name. The lines of succession go from father to first son, to their son, and so on. It only goes to a second son if the first son's line died without issue." She shrugged. "Thing is, the trend right now is for magical families to only have one son. The only one with more is the Weasleys, and I'd never marry Ronald."

Harry nodded slowly. "So… Consort, was it?" At her nod, he smiled shyly. "To House Potter?"

Her expression brightened, eyes widening. "Really?"

"Yes. And you would get the wedding you want."

The next instant Harry was buried under two very happy witches, as Susan had tackled him with a squeal of joy, and Hermione had hugged him tightly once more, pleased at his thoughtfulness and caring. She'd grappled with the problem of how to maintain their multi-relationship in the future. Certainly he'd marry one of them – and she'd hoped that it would be her – but the other two would have been regarded as little more than live in mistresses. But Daphne had just given them the means to get around that! Best of all, she hadn't needed to prompt him at all!

Susan meanwhile was ecstatic! She'd always known from a young age that her chances for a happily married life were slim. Best she could really hope for was a second wife status, which could be very awkward. Most women were not willing to share, and would demand many concessions of her and her family. Even then, it would not be an equal sharing, little more than contract to continue her line, with the man in question having little to do with the child. And she sure as hell was _not _going to be a single mother! Unwed, un-contracted mothers were looked down by just about everyone in the Magical World, as it was assumed that they were whores, or slept around too much and were careless. And having a child would deny almost any chance of getting a man. Most wizards did not want the extra baggage of a child not from their loins.

But Harry had come through for her, not only giving her the best she could get, but a wedding to boot! Consort Contracts were just that, contracts, names signed onto parchment. An actual wedding was not deemed required. Harry, however, promised her one. She'd be a fool to turn this down!

It took a few minutes for Harry to get some breathing room again, as Hermione seemed determined to hug the stuffing out of him, while Susan had smothered the side of his face in kisses. When she saw his face, Hermione giggled: his right cheek and temple were noticeably redder than the left, Susan's light lipstick being left behind. After giving his face a quick wipe Harry mock-glared at Susan, who smiled back bashfully.

Harry now turned to face Daphne, who had watched them all with a slightly sad smile. "You know, I still need to find a Mrs Black…" His offer was clear.

Daphne was taken aback for a moment, before she replied. "Harry… I'm flattered that you offered that…" She trailed off.

"But?" Harry said, as both Hermione and Susan looked at her with confusion.

Daphne's face fell. "But… I can't."

Hermione frowned in confusion. "I thought you had…"

"Astoria and my other little sisters, yes." Daphne sighed. "But no brothers. And…" She paused.

"Daphne?" Susan asked, worry in her tone.

Daphne didn't answer, but stood up abruptly and walked to the window, her arms around herself. It appeared she was struggling with something… something personal.

Hermione moved to stand, and Harry followed her. Quickly all three of them stood behind Daphne, concern written across their features. "What is it Daphne?" Hermione asked gently, lightly resting a hand on the blonds elbow.

Daphne drew in a ragged breath: it sounded like she was fighting against tears. "Harry… If I accepted your offer… I'd loose any claim to my own Family. But much more importantly, I'd be forcing one of my sisters to carry on the name." A sob escaped her control. "I can't do that to them. Story… I love her, but she doesn't have the worldview I do. She's going to marry for love. She swore it, years ago."

She sniffed, eyes staring unseeing out the window. "And… there's something else. Something I haven't told any of you."

"What? What could it possibly be?" Susan asked, one hand now resting on the taller girls shoulder.

For a long moment Daphne didn't speak. Then in a quiet voice she spoke.

"To answer that… I have to tell you my Families darkest secret. I have to tell you why they fled their homes years ago." She paused. "Why my family is considered 'Dark' by the others."

"Then tell us." Harry said softly. "We won't judge you for it."

Daphne nodded in response. Then, in a trembling voice, she began to speak.

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, I know. It's a cliffhanger. But I have a very special title for the next chapter in mind...


	22. The Grass is Blacker, The Light is Darke

**A/N:** Thank you all for your reviews! I know the last chapter ended on a cliffe, and since I'm in a good mood, and so many of you stated how you hated cliffes... I've decided to give you this chapter now, rather than make you wait for it. Though I reserve the right to hold on to the next one longer... need breathing room to write this story, and the after Main Will section is being very... difficult. Anyhow, here's the next chapter. And yes, the chapter title is a play on a line from a 'Pink Floyd' song.

A WARNING: We are going to touch on a very dark part of history here. I understand if mentioning... that group, causes people heartache. But has anyone else noticed how similar Voldemort's and the Nazi's world views are? This history for the Greengrasses came crawling out of the darkest corners of my mind based on that little fact... places that even I'm nervous about entering. In regard to Grindelwald, AFAIK, we are never told any real details about him, his forces or anything really. Only that he was Voldemort's predecessor, he was a childhood friend of Dumbledore, and rose to power in central Europe. This is one possible take on him and his forces. Even with the seperation between the worlds, I can't see the events of the Muggle World not affecting the Magical...

* * *

... ...

"As you may have guessed, my family hails from Scandinavia – Norway, Sweden and Denmark in the main. The Greengrasses were a respected family, stretching back hundreds of years. Harsh at times, but that was the norm. That area of the world is a harsh one, little sympathy for weakness. We were nobles, and rumours suggested that our magical origin came from the offspring of a Norse lord and a Valkryie who fell in love with the mortal man. We were mostly purebloods, though that was more the working of chance than design.

"My family had never seen itself in terms of 'Light' or 'Dark'. Sure, they knew some 'Dark' curses, and taught them to their children, but they were no Death Eaters. It was more a case of 'Know them, and don't need them' than anything. It also helped keep more... hostile individuals away.

"Things began to fall apart in my Great Grandfathers time, just after the turn of the century. He had three sons. The eldest is my Grandfather, and was his fathers favourite. The youngest was the dreamer, and gave up the Greengrass name to marry the muggleborn daughter of a local lord that he'd fallen for. It was a happy marriage, from what I heard.

"It was the middle son that caused... everything. He grew bitter and twisted, envious of his older brother because of how their father favoured him. He eventually met a pureblood witch when they both joined a growing Magical Supremacist movement that was gaining support in central Europe.

"Their leader was Grindelwald."

Susan gasped, and even Harry started. He knew of that name all right: it was listed on Dumbledore's chocolate frog card, and had been mentioned in a few history textbooks. In many ways, he'd been Voldemorts predecessor. Dumbledore had finally stopped him in the late nineteen-forty's, but his movement had wrought havoc on the continental magical world. Even after his defeat, his followers continue to pillage, torture and kill for years. Three times they had tried to break their leader out of prison, but each time they had been repulsed, though with great loss of life. It was only when the nineteen-fifties drew to a close that they disappeared.

What had made Harry sit up and take notice was that Grindelwald's followers had used muggle weapons as well as their magic. The History of Magic text book didn't go into details, only saying the weapons were 'crude and dishonourable muggle weapons', but he remembered what such weapons were like back from his pre-Hogwarts muggle history courses, as well as other books and fragments of movies he'd glimpsed on TV. 'Crude' was so wrong it wasn't funny.

"What most of the magical world ignores is that Grindelwald was not totally anti-muggle." Daphne continued, seemingly oblivious to their reactions. "He formed an alliance with one. One that even we hear about. An Austrian by the name of Adolf Hitler." _That_ got a strong reaction from her listeners. Harry and Hermione shared a worried look.

"From what my grandfather learned, Grindelwalds men used Hitler's SS as cover, and merged the Nazi's world view with their own. As the muggle army swept the land, so did Grindelwalds sweep the magical. At times they used the muggle troops as extra muscle or cannon fodder. When they started moving north, my grandfather moved to England, his new Danish bride leaving with him. My great-grandfather remained in the ancestral home, though he did have some of the family heirlooms moved to England. Even in his youth we had holding here in England, a legacy from the Viking days.

"Shortly afterwards, my great-uncle returned to the home he'd stormed out of. By the few accounts I've seen, he turned up resplendent in his Magical SS uniform. His father told him he was not welcome in his home. Great-uncle Bearson just laughed, and told him that it was no longer his house.

"Then he killed him."

Hermione gasped. "He killed his own father?"

"It gets worse." Daphne half whispered. "After killing, murdering, his father, Bearson used Fiendfyre to destroy the manor. The manor had been the Greengrasses home for over fourteen centuries. Decades of history, irreplaceable documents, manuscripts and works of art. The living portraits of our ancestors stretching back to the dawn of Living Portraits. Destroyed in minutes."

Harry felt sick. He, more than most, understood what it was like to be cut off from one's history. He could not fathom anyone willing to destroy it all.

"My Grandfather, on his fathers death, became the new Lord Greengrass. He vowed to bring his brother to justice, as his actions dishonoured the family name, a stain on our honour. He also urged his youngest brother to get his family out and to safety. Sadly… he didn't heed the message until it was too late.

"When he learned that his youngest brother and his family had been taken prisoner by Bearson, my Grandfather returned to Denmark to find them, his son - my father Erickson – besides him, barely out of school but eager to avenge the Family Name. It took nearly two years to locate them, but… by then…" Daphne broke into a sob, but pulled herself back together.

"He'd killed his nephew, brutally. His brother was being tortured, and his sister-in-law and elder niece were the… playthings, for his brother's men. In the ensuring firefight, they got most of Bearson's men, but they lost so many. His brother, my other great-uncle, was dying from poison, while his wife was killed. Half of the men who went in with my grandfather died, as did the one who led them to the hideout.

"She was Bearson's daughter, who had been abused by him and rejected everything he stood for. Bearson killed her himself. Used a 'Burning Blood' curse on her. Burned her alive from within."

Hermione looked sick. "He killed… his own daughter?"

Daphne nodded. "Great-uncle Bearson escaped, but not unhurt. He lost an arm, as well as his own wife, who made Bellatrix LeStrange look sane and gentle. But they also took the eldest daughter of the youngest brother with them.

"In the aftermath, the youngest daughter fled to the States, wanting the world between her and her uncle. My Grandfather returned home, where he watched my father recover from the war, and meet my mother. Bearson meanwhile disappeared into the wilderness, along with the rest of his men. But the legacy of his unit lingers, tainting our name across the continent.

"You have to understand, Bearson Greengrass is a monster, and anyone related to him – however distantly – is treated with mistrust and anger. What he did…" She trailed off for a minute, before shivering. "I don't even want to think about it."

The other three closed in around her, providing comfort with their presence. It was obvious that Daphne was struggling to keep calm and collected as she had told them this dark history. Although he was struggling to see how this all related to her implied statement that she could never marry someone traditionally, Harry was willing to giver her the chance to explain. He also noted something about what she'd said…

"He's still around, isn't he?" He asked quietly.

Daphne sniffed again, clearly fighting back tears. "Yes. His body has never been found, no-one's ever brought him to justice. Those who have tried… returned in pieces. His 'unit' has become the bogey men in northern Europe." She started to shiver, prompting the others to enfold her in their arms.

Daphne was silent for a long moment, though her shivering stopped as she soaked in the warmth and support they offered freely. After a minute she was able to begin the final part.

"And… he contacted my family, shortly before my parents married…"

... … ...

_***Greengrass Manor, England, January 12**__**th**__** 1978***_

_Lord Henerick Greengrass smiled fondly as his son kissed his intended on the cheek. Eleanor Hofferson was a delightful young woman, smart as a whip and not at all snobbish. Despite the dark times they were living in, with the threat that was the new Dark Lord and his minions, she retained a bright, cheerful air. She was noticeably younger than Erikson, but that was a blessing it itself: she had not been touched by the darkness that had swept the continent… one that had ravaged his own soul and that of his son. Her laughter and high spirits were the tonic they both needed._

_He'd also noted that under the long robes she'd been wearing to ward off the chill air outside, she was dressed in fashionable muggle attire… a potentially dangerous habit, given the anti-muggle sentiments of the Death Eaters. And, if he was honest, most of his peers in the Wizengamot._

_Pushing that dreary thought to one side, he refocused his attention on his son. At long last they could ensure that his twisted, depraved, evil bastard of a brother would never have control of the family wealth…_

_A flutter of wings snapped his attention to the hall, just before a brown, tired looking owl flew in. It circled the room before landing before his son. All three of them looked at the clearly weary owl as it looked at Erikson for a moment before lifting a leg, tied to which was a letter._

_Frowning in confusion, Erikson gently removed the letter, but instead of opening it placed it on the coffee table as he reached for his wand. Once in hand, he cast several detection spells on it. After no reactions, he shrugged._

"_Who's it from son?"_

"_No idea…" Erikson answered his father, picking the letter up once more. "There's no writing on the front. But there's no spells or charms on it…" Shrugging once more he open the letter carefully._

_Nothing happened as he eased the parchment out of the envelope, and Henerik began to relax…_

_When his son unfolded the parchment however, a jet of liquid sprayed all over him._

"_Erik!" Eleanor cried, but managed to refrain from reaching for him._

_After the spray ceased Erikson looked okay, if rather confused. The liquid appeared to be harmless._

"_A prank." Henerick begun._

"_No father." Erickson said quietly. His eyes when he met his fathers were haunted, fearful. "You need to read this."_

_Feeling a surge of worry, he took the letter from his son. Instantly a chunk of Icelandic ice settled in his gut at sight of the writing within; he recognised the handwriting._

'_**To my brother and his whelp,**_

_**Circumstances prevent me from visiting you two in person, so I am forced to use this means to deal with you two… blood traitors. You may have ruined me, but I will win the war. I am willing to wait for what is mine.**_

_**By now you are wondering what the potion that was inflicted on your son was my brother. It is an old remedy, one that works surprisingly well. Oh, don't panic my brother, your son will live a long & healthy life… assuming he doesn't mess up.**_

_**No, all the potion will do is ensure one thing; your son will only ever have daughters.'**_

_Henerick frowned. He knew that'd he'd love and care for any grandchildren of his, regardless of their gender or magical strength. Yes, only having daughters would be a small problem, but not a major, insurmountable one…_

_Then he read the next section._

'_**I have already invoked with the ICW the Line of Succession Ruling of 1654. Enjoy the time you have left, my brother.'**_

... … ...

Susan blanched white. "He didn't!"

Daphne nodded sadly. "He did."

Harry was confused. Obviously something was special about that rule.

"What is the rule?" Hermione asked, clearly just as confused.

"TheInternational Line of Succession Rule of 1654 came into being when a major magical family, who also held the throne of Spain, had only daughters to carry on the line. Their uncle insisted that as they could not continue the line, it defaulted to him. The Rule was drawn up to give the girls a chance to continue the line." Daphne explained, her tone defeated.

"Basically, it boils down to this: Each daughter has until she turns eighteen to find a suitable wizard husband – or a family willing to take on a consort – to continue the family. This was when daughters were often married off in their early to mid teens. Those days it was only royalty who had the money and means to support consorts though. These days very few people even know about it: I know only because of my grand-uncle's statement. But it's still on the books, still legal. If I or my sisters fail to find a willing wizard – willing to abide by the terms of a Consort Contract, the rule does not recognise 'bastard' son's – by the time we all reach eighteen, the entire family fortune and name goes to him. He'll be the new Head of the Family. I've got just over a year to…" She trailed off, her voice breaking.

Acting on instinct Harry gently pulled her around to face him before drawing her close. His last sight of her face was of tears running down her cheeks from her closed eyes before she burrowed her face into his neck. A sob shook her slender frame as Hermione and Susan moved to enfold her between them, much like how the three of them had hugged Harry that first night.

As they comforted her and allowed Daphne to get her composure back, Harry allowed his thoughts to wander. It was easy now to see why Daphne was that bit more withdrawn, bit more reserved, than Hermione or Susan. She'd had this hanging over her for her whole life. It struck a cord within him, as he too knew what it felt like to have such a burden hanging over you. It also helped explain why she'd ended up in Slytherin, rather than Ravenclaw, which, he felt, was an equally valid House. If the Sorting Hat also factored in family legacies and public opinions – which the students in question would likely be aware of – then Daphne's families 'Dark' history would have meant that she was expected to go into Slytherin. She knew it, and half expected it herself. Even Harry had heard of the idea of a 'Self fulfilling Prophecy'.

In the last fortnight Harry had come to know the formerly reclusive and aloof blond, the Slytherin 'Ice Princess'. He had witnessed her smart wit and wry sense of humour, seen her relax, smile and laugh. She'd opened up, let him see past the mask that she wore at Hogwarts, and in doing so revealed at least a part of her true self. What she had just told them was likely her deepest, darkest secret. It was clear even to him that she'd been aware of this fate for most of her life, always there in the back of her mind. He'd been privy to some of her fears, the ghosts that haunted her dreams, just like he'd learned of those of Susan and Hermione… and they had drawn a few from him. It had been agonising, yet he'd somehow felt better afterwards, lighter.

And yet he had learned of yet another aspect of the Magical World that he didn't care for. He still remembered how he felt when he had first met Hagrid: freedom, a chance to final find somewhere where he belonged. A home, friends. And for a while he had.

But as the years past, that rosy vision had faded. The Magical World was stuck in the past, while the muggle world, the world he'd been raised – however badly - in, had past them by centuries ago. Corruption was rife, with the power held by those with the most gold. Knowledge and talent were ignored, except in exceptional cases, while the bulk of the people were fickle sheep, believing whatever someone in authority said.

It was easy to see how and why Tom Riddle had become Voldemort.

Pushing that thought aside with a shiver, Harry returned his attention to the blond in his arms. It was clear that what she had just told them was eating away at her, had been since she was little. He could recognise that she was determined to deal with this problem herself, to spare her sisters. He respected her all the more for that.

Feeling that she'd regained most of her composure, Harry eased back a little. "So… Potter or Black?"

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "What?" Her voice was small, but hopeful.

Harry allowed a smile to crease his face as Hermione and Susan looked at him as well. "Which family would you like to Consort with? Susan you should decide as well." He added glancing at the redhead in question. His eyes then tracked to Hermione. "All assuming that the future Mrs Potter approves…"

The next he knew, Harry was flat on his back with an overjoyed Hermione straddling him, her lips seemingly fused to his. The ache in his backside and the back of his head, not to mention the ringing of his ears, was forgotten as Hermione continued to express just how happy she was. Not to be outdone, Susan and Daphne were almost instantly laying besides him, showering kisses on his cheeks and forehead, pretty much wherever they could reach him around Hermione.

After several long, glorious minutes Hermione lifted her head to smile down at with puffy lips and shining eyes. "That's a yes Harry. To everything."

"Although…" Daphne mused, the humour clear in her voice. "…you should have addressed her as 'Lady' Potter, at that will be her formal title. Ours would be Madam." She then tightened her hold on him, kissing him softly. "Thank you Harry." Sincere feeling was in her tone.

Harry blushed a little, but wrapped an arm around her to hold her close. "You deserve better. Just remember: you're all going to have to help me find a 'Lady Black'. I refuse to allow Draco to get hold of Sirius's legacy!"

The three witches nodded in agreement. "He never will Harry." Hermione reassured him. A small frown creased her forehead. "Though I wonder if the Black Family have conditions on who can be married into the line. You saw their motto." Harry nodded, remembering the Black Family Tree.

"Always Pure." He muttered.

Suddenly Hermione got a devious look… one that Harry hadn't seen before. "Although… we _could_ alter the _meaning_ of the motto…"

The others burst out laughing as her meaning came clear. But in the back of her mind, Daphne was already considering a possible candidate…

* * *

At that same time Voldemort was sat in his throne at one end of the grand hall in Malfoy Manor. To each side his Death Eaters stood in two rows, forming a pair of wings that framed an empty area before him. Behind him were the family members of his Inner Circle who were not Death Eaters, not yet at least. If it hadn't been for whatever that Potter brat did they would all be bond to him now. But his magic was still below strength, his homunculus body unstable. Much of his power he had to use to stabilise it, along with taking specially made potions from Severus. Until then, he was weakened.

Which was why he was here now. A little over three weeks ago he'd been contacted by another wizard. The Black Eagle which had delivered the missive had glared balefully at him, as if daring him to try and kill it. It had been his first inclination, but he had recalled the tales of these rare magical eagles… that had only served Grindelwald's forces. For someone to have one, they had to have been in the service of Grindelwald before his defeat.

Staying his wand and allowing the Black Eagle to leave required a lot of will, but he'd succeeded. It was said the owners of such birds were very… protective, of them. The missive itself was short and to the point. The sender wished for a face-to-face meeting to discuss the possibility of an alliance. Voldemort had at first been going to turn him down, as he doubted that an older man would be of much use to him… but before he could send a reply Potter had finally gotten the hint and departed for the Department of Mysteries. The aftermath of that had him focused inwards, restoring himself and his magic.

Then came That Night, when it felt like his soul was being torn apart within the heart of a blast furnace. He didn't know what happened or what caused it, but he did know that Potter was involved somehow. He also could no longer sense the boy through the mental link they had shared. Severus had provided some clues as to what Potter had done, but it still made no sense. Young Draco had been punished for his role in things, as it was his cursing of Potter that caused those three young witches to rally around him and resulted in them doing… whatever they did.

It was why he had moved up his plan against Amelia Bones. He'd already marked her for death, as she was one of the few competent, honest people in the Ministry who were in a position to oppose him. As it had been her niece who'd been part of whatever they did for Potter, killing her aunt and last remaining relative would have been a suitable punishment… for the moment. Lucius was all set to swoop in and offer to become the orphaned Miss Bones new Guardian for the short time she still needed one. And once she arrived here…

But things had not gone right. Yes, Bones Manor was in ruins, but Amelia Bones still lived. And his Death Eaters had not performed well at all. Voldemort had thought over the fight outside of the manor; who'd have thought that such a 'Light' family would make use of necromancy, possibly the Darkest magic around? But the fight had highlighted a problem he had not considered before.

His Death Eaters were terrorists, scare-mongers and thugs. They excelled at terrifying their victims and spreading fear. But against determined or fearless opposition, they faltered and came up short. A halfway decent Auror or Hit-Wizard force would tear them apart.

That was the main reason he had decided to grant this man an audience. If he had served under Grindelwald and survived the hunts afterwards, then he had to be at least competent in a fight.

The other was the name. He was curious how someone from the same family as someone who supported Potter would wish to speak with him.

Out in the hall, Draco stood by the front door, fuming near silently. "This is demeaning! Answering the door! This is a servants job!" He muttered angrily. Just because he had the balls to curse Potty...

He jumped when the door beside him rattled as it was rapped on heavily. The sound echoed through the hall as he tried to get his pulse under control. Summoning every shred of his pride, poise and charm, he opened the door.

And promptly started quivering in abject fear.

It was only because he'd had to skip lunch that he avoided shitting himself.

Back in the grand hall Voldemort had heard the rapping on the front door, and was preparing himself for anything. His wand lay close to hand, and his Death Eaters numbered almost eighty strong, an overwhelming display of power.

Behind him, Narcissa Malfoy listened to the sounds of the approaching boots with dread. If she'd had any choice she'd have been cowering under the covers of her bed right now. She was terrified that the Dark Lord would pluck her dissent and desire to flee right out of her mind. What would happen to her then... She didn't even think about it, but those thought inhabited her nightmares.

But this... the rhythmic thumping of boots chilled her blood. Whoever they were meeting was to bring an escort, but it sounded like he brought a small army...

Just then Draco hurried through the door, looking like all the hounds of Hell were snapping at his heels. His face was ghoulish in its paleness as he hurried over to take his place behind his father's right elbow. Narcissa was about to berate him for his lack of decor and grace, but then three men stepped through the archway... and she barely choked off a scream. From around her there were startled – and terrified – intakes of breath.

Stood in the centre was a tall man, his face lined with age but still razor sharp and ruthless. A nasty set of scars marred his cheek, but they just made him seem more powerful. The eyes were clearly even from this distance ice blue, cold and ruthless. The man just seemed to project a cold, merciless nature.

But the real shock – a cause for the fear – was his dress.

Head to toe, he was clad in black. Black knee length boots, black trousers, tunic, and peaked cap. Silver buttons and white trim gave him shape and form. At his throat was a stylish cross in silver and black. A black peaked cap was perched on his head, and from his shoulders hung a long black cape. His left arm was half missing, the lower half of the sleeve pinned up on the shoulder, while the right hand was encased in a black leather glove.

And right in the centre of that peaked cap, was a symbol that sent fear pouring through her very veins.

An eagle with outstretched wings, over which was laid a triangle with a circle within. And filling the space within that circle was a crooked cross.

The gun and wand holster worn across his torso on the belt just reinforced the image.

This was no average wizard.

This man was a surviving member of the _Magische Schutzstaffel_.

The Magical SS, Grindelwald's private force, the Agents of Death. And from the insignia, a high ranked one.

'_Merlin help us...'_

The men that walked either side took a step to the side, perfectly in step, placing themselves each side of the entrance. Two more men seamlessly filled the spaces left, flanking the leader. All four were also clearly Magi-SS. Their tunics were charcoal black, while the helmets and metal parts of their uniforms were a very dark grey. All four were heavily armed, holding guns that any muggle or muggleborn would instantly recognise. They also had wand and pistol holsters on one hip, a large knife – almost a sword really – on the other, and a number of what looked like cans on sticks hanging from their belts.

But it was the facemasks that showed that these were the elite Storm Wizards, rather than regulars. Each had a mask that projected down from under the rim of their helmets, completely covering their faces. The masks were slightly mirrored, brighter than the helmets themselves, and were almost completely featureless. Only two darker triangles where the eyes would be.

From his seat Voldemort watched the officer look over his Death Eaters before looking right at him. While on the outside he was reaction-less, inside he was both elated and worried. If he could get this man and his men under his control, then what power he would control! He could destroy the Ministry and Dumbledore in days!

But if they took offence... He remembered the stories. Four Storm Wizards against eighty normal witches and wizards? They'd cut through them without pause or loss.

The officer stepped forwards. "You are the Dark Lord Voldemort?" He asked with a Baltic accent.

"That I am. And you are?"

"Major Bearson Greengrass, _Waffen-Magische Schutzstaffel_." The major then lazily drew his wand and waved it before him. Voldemort noted the length and thickness of the wand; it was more like a baton than a wand. It also had a long leather tail attached to one end, making it a whip as well as a wand. A hard backed, austere chair appeared, into which the major sat himself after holstering his wand. His two guards stood just over each shoulder.

"Well, shall we begin?"

* * *

With only a small creak a door opened slowly, the young woman pushing it wincing as she did. It was late, gone one at the earliest, and she really, _really_ didn't want her father to know about her going out. What made it worse was that she went clubbing with muggles. Her father was no Death Eater, but he certainly agreed with the sentiment that Magicals and Muggles should not mix, ever.

Easing the front door closed, she tiptoed as best she could towards the stairs. Now if she could just make it upstairs...

Light suddenly shone from a doorway. "Tracy?"

Tracy Davis jumped, her hand fumbling for her wand even as she spun to face the voice, a shriek half escaping before she restrained it. The light from the gas lamp fell across his face, stilling her hand.

"Damn it Roger, stop doing that!" She snapped irritably. "You trying to give me a heart attack!"

Roger Davies looked at his half-sister with ill humour, arms folded across his chest. The two had never seen eye-to-eye, even when younger. While he'd never said it he'd always felt, deep down, that she didn't belong in this house, this family. Her being sorted into Slytherin just widened the gap between them.

He couldn't help but look over her attire... and sigh in dismay. Tracy was most certainly not properly dressed. Her skirt was way too short, her top too tight... her stomach was showing for Merlin's sake! Her clothing was in black or dark colours, and he could just see that she'd put purple highlights into her hair. Why was she so interested in muggles, in particular their 'Goth' sub-culture? What the hell was a 'Goth' anyway? Shaking his head, his pushed those thoughts to one side.

"Father wants a word with you."

Tracy tried to ignore the lump of ice that dropped into her stomach at his words. "That all? Why didn't he wait till morn…"

"Now, Tracy." Roger cut her off. Tracy's jaw fell even as her face drained.

"Y... you mean, right now?" That shriek was coming back. He just nodded. Trembling, Tracy followed him, a nest of snakes churning in her belly.

Stepping into her father's office, Tracy couldn't help but be reminded of who he really loved. Photos of Abraxis Davies and his first wife – Roger's mother - were everywhere, with a large 'glamour' photo of her sat pride of place on his desk beaming at him. In contrast, the only photo of her mother was a small, business card sized one tucked away in a corner, half hidden by other things. The two desk lamps were alight, but the rest of the room was in darkness. The combination made Abraxis appear to loom out of the shadows, his scowl made all the darker by them. The scowl on his face deepened when he saw her state of dress.

"Sit down Tracy." He stated firmly. Hearing the tone of his voice, she sat down without a witty comeback or a hint of rebellion. Roger moved to lean against the wall over his fathers shoulder, almost disappearing in the darkness.

After she had sat, Tracy forced herself to keep quiet. Her father could at times be rather volatile. The problem was he was also a control freak, and Tracy found his actions to control her life very aggregating. It was part of the reason she rebelled so much. It helped that the Muggle world was so _varied_, so rich! She'd drifted for a bit before coming across the Goth group, and discovered a number of like-minded individuals, seeking escape from domineering parents.

But now, sat before him in her muggle clothing, she could practically _feel _his disapproving gaze raking over her. After a long few moments he sighed.

"I told you not to associate with muggles Tracy. Why do you continue to defy me?"

"Dad..."

"Be quiet! I don't want another excuse. Merlin, you cavort with some of the most disreputable sorts of muggles around! Why? To embarrass me? Whoring yourself out like you are?"

Tracy shot to her feet, anger surging through her. "I am NOT a WHORE!"

"DON'T YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME, YOUNG WOMAN! You dress like one, then you are one! Merlin, you are too much like your mother..."

"You loved her..."

"SILENCE! That bitch took advantage of my broken heart, and then left me for some muggle-born bastard! And I was stuck with you!" Abraxis Davies was now standing, fists planted on his desk. Terrified, Tracy sunk back onto her chair. After a few seconds, her father sighed himself and sat back down, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"Why the Hades do you continue to cavort with muggles, Tracy? Do you realise what that does? You've painted a target on yourself and us!" Tracy paled as he continued. "The Dark Lord is back Tracy, witnessed by the Minister and over half the Ministry! We don't have the means nor the funds to fend him off if he comes after us; our only chance is to not draw his ire.

"Why couldn't you be more like Diane?" He asked almost softly, looking fondly at the large photo on the desk, which winked before blowing a kiss. "She knew and understood a woman's place in society..."

Tracy lost it; she snorted. "Yeah. Shackled to the kitchen crapping out kids..."

*SMACK*

She jumped as his fist slammed down on his desk as he rose to his feet, towering over her. Anger blazed from his eyes.

"Don't. You. Dare. Demean. Her." Abraxis intoned quiet, threateningly. Eye's wide, she could only nod in reply, too stunned to speak. After a few seconds her father exhaled, sinking back down into his chair. Both hands came up and rubbed over his face. In that moment, Tracy saw how old her father looked, how tired. He was a hard man, but had carved his little niche in the world with the sweat off his own back. Unlike most of the other students at Hogwarts, The Davies Family were not Noble or Ancient. Nor were they gifted Muggle-borns. They were a Working-Class family, whose father had earned his fortune through hard work.

"You are to have no more contact with the Muggle world Tracy. I forbid it! You are to study those books on etiquette that I got you three years ago. You'll need them, when you meet your betrothed."

Tracy's voice came back at full volume. "BETROTHED?"

Abraxis leaned back, a tired expression on his face. "Yes. The Nott family's put in a good offer for a contract between you and their son Theodore. It's a good match..." His tone was resigned.

Tracy felt her heart race. "Dad, the Nott's are DEATH EATERS! Theo's part of _Malfoy's _gang at Hogwarts! The group that tried to _rape _me, several times over the last year!"

Abraxis frowned. "Nonsense. I know Nott senior quite well. He's no more a Death Eaterthan I am. And Lucius Malfoy's an upstanding citizen: would a Death Eater really help fund St. Mungos?" His eyes narrowed. "And I don't care that in the Muggle World girls can get an honest guy lynched just by yelling 'rape'. We do things properly, with evidence!"

Distraught, Tracy turned to her older half-brother. "Back me up here Roger! You know what Malfoy and his lot are like! It was all over the school!"

Roger Davies frowned. "I did hear rumours floating about, but that's all they were, rumours and hearsay. I saw no evidence to substantiate them."

Tracy felt her jaw drop. How could he be so blind?

"This is for the best Tracy." Abraxis cut in as softly as he could. "The Bride price is enough to set us for life, and allow Roger to pick his future wife without worrying over her price." He leaned back in his seat wearily.

Tracy felt devastated and betrayed. "So that's all I am to you? A way to make money? What about what I want?" not waiting for a reply she rapidly stood and turned to the door.

Behind her Abraxis sighed. "Marriage has always been, and always shall be, politically and financially managed. Love is fleeting, and only the lucky find it. You have to accept it."

Tracy paused at the door, one hand resting on the handle. "Just one thing." She paused, voice breaking. "If someone comes along with a better offer, would you accept them over the Notts?"

Abraxis considered that for moment. "Yes, I believe so. But they'd have to come forward soon, as the Nott's are awaiting my answer." Seeing the way her shoulders slumped, Abraxis felt compelled to say something. Despite everything she had done, every painful thing she reminded him of, he did care for her. "Tracy... I'm sorry it has to be this way. If I had other options... but Hogwart's hasn't opened the door's I hoped for." Regret laced his tone.

Tracy nodded, understanding. Hogwarts was The Magical School for Britain, but it was expensive. She knew how he'd scraped and saved to put both Roger and herself through Hogwarts... when he had every right to send her to the 'local' school and save himself a fortune. If Malfoy knew that she was almost as poor as the Weasleys… it didn't bear thinking about.

"I'll delay them as long as I can Tracy, to give you time to find another suitor with a better offer... one you want to be with. Just... work fast." Her father's tone was unsure, concern filtering through. It sent a small wave of warmth through her.

"Thanks dad."

* * *

**A/N:** Once again, I find myself hoping that a character comes across as I hoped to protray him... I hope that satisfied all your desires for information and back story, as well as clearing up the riddle of 'The Future Mrs Black'.


	23. Homeward Bound

**A/N:** Well, todays a special day for Neville fans, and we all know tomorrow's significance... :D Here's a nice long chapter for you, as Harry returns home...

* * *

After their emotional afternoon, the four of them spent the night in each other's arms once more. As before Harry was at the centre of their cuddle, though this time it was Daphne who laid on top of him, with Hermione and Susan to either side. Still feeling the joy and acceptance from him, Daphne had taken advantage of her position to repeat Hermione's actions from earlier. When she'd started Harry had begun to panic a little, as the feeling of her lying on him was very arousing. He'd managed to avoid having his arousal noticed thanks to the layers of clothing between them and that Hermione had been lying more on his chest. Daphne, being that bit taller, was not so high up on him. And all she was wearing was that thin silk negligee, which did little to hide her figure or to form a barrier to his touch. She'd paused when she felt something poking her thigh, before she realised just what that was. She'd pulled back to grin saucily down at him, before cheekily telling that there would be no ravishing that night, but she was flattered.

It was just as his face returned to his normal hue that she had spoken again, half whispering seductively in his ear.

"But, once we _are _Consorted, you can ravish me whenever you want."

Harry had to use every shred of self-control to restrain his orgasm at that.

Sunday morning found the Granger Family and guests sat down together in the living room. Both Emma and Nathan had wanted to talk with Harry about a couple of things, most notably the Dursleys. While Harry was perfectly happy with never seeing them again, he found himself the only one who was not baying for their blood. With his decision yesterday to not listen to their views any more still fresh in his head, he quickly came around. As the elder Grangers laid out the outline of their plan, Harry learned just where Hermione got her brains, deviousness and righteous streak. Emma was the thinker of the two, while Nathan clearly was the source of the devious ways to bring justice to his relatives. Harry was able to supply some details that would make sure that the Dursleys dug their own graves.

When Remus & Tonks arrived, wishing to speak with Harry regarding the messages Sirius had given them, Hermione decided it was time to discuss with her parents what had come out of the heart to heart the four of them had had the previous day.

"Mum, Dad... I... we need to talk."

Both adult Grangers shared a look. They had half an idea of what this was about. They had seen how the young women had been very bright and happy, with their daughter almost bouncing off the walls, when they returned from their work do. If it was what they thought it was...

Hermione sought Harry's hand, grasping it for support. "We... would like to be married someday."

Remus looked at Hermione, sat next to Harry on the sofa, with a tiny smile at the corners of his mouth. He'd been expecting this for a while, ever since that night when the truth about Sirius had come out. Even back then he'd seen the dynamic between them, the connection. Tonks thought back to the previous summer, remembering how Hermione had visibly fretted about Harry both before he arrived and in the run up to his farce of a trial. She'd been a nervous wreck during the period of time when the trial was due to occur.

Nathan, despite half expecting this, still felt shocked. He had to take a deep breath before replying. "Don't you think you're both a bit young for that level of commitment?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each and blushed. "Honestly, yes dad. But not by much. I know that I'd never find anyone better. I'd like to believe we're mature for our ages." Her father had to nod at that: Hermione had always been older mentally than she was in years.

"There's other reasons for us to... marry..." Harry stuttered over the word, but after a moment pressed on. "My Godfather named me his heir. Under some Pureblood law, I have to take a wife to continue each line I'm heir to separately." Harry sighed. "Thing is, there's a time limit. To prevent Draco from getting his hands on my Godfather's money, I have to be at least engaged to two separate witches within... a year, wasn't it?" He glanced at Daphne who nodded.

"Technically it's betrothed, and a year after coming of age or being emancipated. But with things like this, the sooner you deal with it the better." She supplied.

"Also, by accepting a betrothal contract, both of you can be taken under the protection of House Potter." Susan chipped in, prompting both adults to look at her. She blanched a little before continuing. "Because you're not magical, there are some in power right now who would disregard you as 'unimportant'. Having you both under the Aegis of an Ancient and Noble House like the Potter's means that anything done to you counts as being done to a member of House Potter. Even with Harry being the last member of that family, there are very few who would even dare consider using you that way. Even Dumbledore will baulk."

Emma looked across at her daughter and Harry. "So what you're saying is that if we allow you to become engaged, we're safe from interference by other wizards?"

"Only in a legal sense." Susan explained. "Your views would be at least listened to – which is far more than they would be right now – and you will be protected under law to the same degree as any magical."

Nathan looked at Harry closely. "Just what are your intentions towards my daughter young man? You're not doing this just to keep her safe, are you?"

Harry blanched, but answered. "Mr Granger, Hermione means the world to me. I need her to keep me sane and safe. I... I love her for that, and so much more. This... situation, I find myself in, it does not change my intentions towards her. It makes things more complicated, yes, but not in regard to Hermione.

"All I want is for her to be happy. I'll do everything I can do ensure that she has what she wants, as long as she wants it. I'll support her in every way I can. I can't imagine my life without her in it any more, and I'd rather die than let her down." Besides him Hermione was beaming at him with tears of happiness in her eyes, her hand squeezing his in appreciation.

Nathan sat back, a smile starting to form on his face. "Good answer Harry, very good answer." He shared another look with his wife before facing the teens again. "You have our blessing." Both were deeply unsettled by what they had just been told, but they both also could clearly see that this was what their daughter wanted. They had both already accepted that things would be 'different' with Hermione's life… this was a bit more than they had expected. But… they were not going to stand in their daughter's way.

Harry exhaled, feeling a great weight lift from his shoulders. While he knew that there were still many obstacles to overcome before they could achieve their goal, having Hermione's parent's approval was the one he had been most worried about. "Thank you."

Hermione smiled warmly at him, then glanced towards Susan and Daphne. Preparing herself, she took a deep breath. "There's... something else. We told you that Harry has to have another wife to continue the other Family line under Wizard Law. Well..."

Daphne then explained the Consort Contract and what it entailed to the two adults. To say they were surprised – and a little shocked – was unnecessary. Emma was the most obviously affronted at the practice, but she accepted that it was the situation at present. Nathan was the most curious, and looked at Harry with a mixture of envy and pity.

It was at this point that Tonks jumped in. "Harry... speaking of family, my mum almost broke down when she saw what Sirius wanted you to do. She'd do anything for you if you do."

Harry nodded. "Truthfully, I was planning on honouring his wishes anyway. She doesn't have to owe me."

Tonks smiled. "Well, I'll relay that, but I think you really could use her services. You see, my parents are a husband-wife legal team. They not only know all the ins and outs of magical contracts, they also understand modern muggle laws." She nodded towards the three young women. "They can write the contracts you'll need, and make sure there's no loop-holes those against you can use."

"In that case, we accept." Hermione answered, patting Harry's hand to keep him quiet. "Can they get drafts together for us to look over say, Wednesday? I think we should get these into Gringotts and the Ministry quickly, before the Will Reading would be ideal."

Tonks nodded. "Pretty sure they will." She then grinned cheekily. "It'll blow their minds for sure!"

Harry now turned to Remus. "Remus... have you ever... been to Potter Manor?"

Remus smiled warmly, with only a ghost of pain in his eyes. "Yes Harry, I did visit a couple of times. Before the attack that drove your family out of I and into hiding. I never mentioned it before since I assumed, incorrectly, that you were living there. And… the last I heard, the place was in ruins." At Harry's crest-fallen expression, Remus felt the need to reassure him. "That was almost fifteen years ago Harry. I'm sure they've at least rebuilt part of it."

"I bet Dumbledore encouraged that belief." Daphne muttered.

Remus nodded slowly, his smile replaced with a haunted, hard look. "Harry... had I known that you were with Petunia earlier, I'd have torn the house down to rescue you and take you home, Dumbledore be damned!"

"Likely why he didn't let you know." Daphne commented dryly. She then shrugged. "And even if you did go there, what would have stopped him coming after you?" Remus deflated at her brutal logic.

"It doesn't matter now Remus. The point is that I know about... home." He trailed off on the word. Until now, Hogwarts had been the closest he'd ever had to having a 'home'. Privett Drive was not a home for him: it was prison. It was Hell.

While he was distracted, Hermione had faced her parents once again. "We were hoping..."

Emma smiled and Nathan nodded. "A day out tomorrow."

Remus nodded. "I'll meet you there."

"No. _We'll_ meet you there." Tonks corrected him.

* * *

The next morning the six of them piled into the Discovery. It was a bit of tight squeeze in the back with the four teens sat there, but fortunately none of them minded close contact with the others. Emma rode up front with the directions while Nathan drove. It was clear early on that they had done this many times in the past.

Leaving after nine allowed them to avoid the bulk of the 'Rush Hour', though the M25 was still busy. Fortunately, their way was in the other direction to the bulk of the traffic. Even so, it was nearly quarter an hour later before they pulled off onto the slip road down. Taking the first turning caused them to turn back on themselves, passing through a small village at the side of the motorway. Ahead and to their right, the ground sunk then rose into a rolling hill, covered in trees. The Great Monks Wood.

As they reached the bottom of the depression the road curved to the right and rose, climbing to the brow of the hill. Emma looked once more at the directions she held in her lap. "According to this, we want a turning on the right just after or on the crest of the hill."

"Got it." Nathan replied, glancing out the side window at the expanse of forest. "Easy to see how you could hide something in all this, even without magic."

After a curve to the left the rood rose a little more before levelling off... and just ahead they could see a lay-by on their side with two people stood in it, looking for all the world like they had decided to stop for a moment while on a stroll through the forest. The pink hair on the shorter one was a dead give away as to who they were. As Nathan eased into the lay-by, they all saw the side road that ended directly opposite the lay-by.

Harry and Hermione, both sat on the drivers side, examined the entrance as best they could. It was surfaced in tarmac, but an old layer, paled with age. The trees and bushes each side closed in, making it look narrower than it was. After a short distance it curved to the left, deeper into the forest. A small sign poked out of the undergrowth. 'Private Road'

Remus and Tonks stepped over as Emma lowered the window. "Excellent timing. We only just got here ourselves."

"That it?" Nathan gestured over his shoulder at the old, forgotten lane across the road. While not obviously abandoned, it clearly was not used often if at all. From the look on her face, Tonks was asking the same question.

Remus looked across, and in his eyes they could all see fond memories playing out. "That's it."

After a glance at his wife Nathan shrugged before flicking the indicator. After a few moments of checking the traffic he eased the Discovery across the road and onto the old road. Remus And Tonks crossed a few moments later, walking quickly to catch up. After a moments consideration Remus stepped up onto the running boards on the side, holding onto the roof rail easily, while Tonks used one of the fold down 'jump-seats' in the boot space. With both extra passengers on Nathan eased them off again.

Once they rounded the bend it was as if they had entered another world. What little noise generated by the road disappeared, leaving them surrounded by the silent trees. The road they followed, while narrow and clearly rarely used, was smooth and well maintained. Dappled sunlight filtered down through the leaves, giving them all a sense of peace and serenity. After another half mile the road curved to the right, looping around the hump of a hill, before curving left again.

It was just as they started to curve left that they felt... something. Emma felt it first; a faint wave that seemed to sweep up her legs and over her. The magicals felt a much stronger tingle, and for a moment they felt almost pushed back, away from whatever was the source. And there was a sense that at any moment something vast could come crashing down to crush them. Remus' eyes widened at the sensation, feeling the sense that a massive and powerful predator was watching him. In the back Tonks swore. "Bugger, those are some serious wards we just passed!"

Any further comments were stilled when they round the turn. A couple hundred yards further on the road ended at a pair of large, wrought iron gates. It was what was each side of these gates, each of which looked tough enough to withstand a tank assault, which stilled tongues. On the left was what looked like a fortified house, with a first floor parapet and firing slots. From the other side of the house a stone wall, easily eight feet tall, angled out for a short distance before it disappeared deeper into the forest. The other side of the gate was anchored to the corner of a tall, square stone tower, which would have been at home as part of a small castle. Arrow slots marked the upper floors, while on their level newer looking stone surrounded an almost square window. Wooden shutters were inside, blocking any view within. Another wall joined on the corner, angling out before sweeping out into the forest. From the top of the tower a flag mast rose into the air, currently bare.

Remus stepped down from the running board as Nathan eased the Discovery to a halt before the gate. Stepping over to the gatehouse, he approached a large window. Wooden shutters slid apart, to reveal an old man wearing a felt flat cap and tweed jacket. "Can I help you laddie? Unless you're selling some new fangled thingy, then bugger off!" Harry couldn't help but smile at the old man's greeting. Jovial but firm.

Remus too was smiling. "Actually I'm bringing someone home Alfred."

The old man adjusted his glasses, peering closely at Remus. "Well I'll be... that you Remus? Darn, how long has it been?"

"Too long Alfred." Remus replied sadly. "Far too long."

Alfred's whole countenance shifted. "Now what's this about you bringing someone home, huh? You know just as well as me..."

"It's Harry." Remus cut him off gently.

Alfred paused, then grinned happily. "At last! Sirius said things were difficult, but we always knew he'd find his way back here." He slapped down on something by him, and the gates began to swing open. "Go on through. I've got to tell the others."

Those still in the car turned their attention back to the gates, and what lay beyond. The tarmac of the private road ended at the gates, with a line of neatly formed stones. Beyond them the road continued as a finely raked pale gravel drive. Ahead, the sides of the tower and gatehouse flowed into two short sections of wall, forming a passage some twenty feet long with solid stone sides. An obvious bottleneck. After the walls there appeared to be a side turning to the left, behind the gatehouse, while the main drive went on. Further on, it forked, the clearly main path just passing a massive oak tree that rose dead ahead going left, while another side turning went to the right. Smaller oaks, ash and beech trees reached into the sky all around them, and formed a thick screen to the right of the drive.

Nathan brought the car to a stop at the end of the wall, where old Alfred had just appeared. Behind him, they could see that the side turning led to a half-dozen modest cottages and small homes. Hermione frowned slightly as she took note of the styling. While one was a archetypal English thatched cottage, another was almost purely Mediterranean villa, while the rest were a mixture of villa, eighteen century cottage and more modern housing. There were signs of disuse. Not neglect as such, but more the lack of anyone living in them. Lawns overgrown, walls a bit grubby. Only the nearest showed signs of habitation.

Alfred leaned in the passenger window. At this range the lines of age were clear, but his eyes were still bright and lively. Harry guessed he must be in his seventies. "Just follow the main drive, left then right. You can't miss the main manor. The others will be waiting for you." He then looked over the rear passengers, freezing on Harry. Looking back at him, Harry was surprised to see not awe or contempt, but happiness, in his eyes.

"Master Harry... you really are the son of your parents. It'll be good to have a Lord Potter in residence once again..." He patted the window lip before stepping back, still beaming.

As they slowly drove along the drive, everyone looked about, taking in the peace and serenity that the trees imbued in the air. The right fork at the massive oak forked again further along, one turning more to the right and rising up, the other becoming more of a track that led off between two hills off to their right. Further on the drive turned to the right, with a spur running off between two rows of poplars. At the far end another set of smaller gates could just be seen.

But it was the stonework that was just around the bend that caught the eye. A towering block of worked pale stone, it gleamed in the strong sunlight. From the far two sides lower, narrower walls raced away, while perched on top was a sculpture. Not of a man, but of a dragon, a classical version with four legs, folded wings and long neck, sat back on it's haunches, the tail wrapped around its feet. So finely carved and detailed that Harry almost expected it to take off right there and then. It looked out over the drive, and they all felt like its eyes were following them.

As they came out of the bend the rest of the manor itself came into view. Beyond the carved dragon most of the roof of one wing was gleaming glass. From the dragon the wall ran to the corner of the front of the manor, forming one side of a rough triangle. The side to their right was formed by the tree line, while the third was formed by a low wall that ran at an angle from the front wall to a long, low building. Five garage doors lined the front of this outbuilding, while behind it the manor rose up several floors, with varied roof lines and many windows. Behind that a tall, narrow tower rose further, which looked a little like one of Hogwarts towers on a smaller scale. The whole building was done in a pale, sun-bleached stone with dark red tiling on the roofs, though Susan could make slight variations in the stonework's colouration, suggesting that the building had been built in stages over a long period of time.

And standing on the marble steps before the large double doors were two people.

Hermione looked closely at them as her father pulled the Discovery to a halt. The man was wearing a well fitted classical Butler's uniform, complete with tails. He was a lean figure with a sharp chin, but his large and open eyes gave him a pleasant look. Dark hair was neatly combed back, and he looked excited yet respectful, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. In contrast the woman by his side was smiling prettily. She wore the typical maids long dress, though not quite as an extensive getup as some history books suggested. She had a slim figure too, with a heart shaped face with equally large, expressive eyes that sparkled with happiness. A long trail of dark chocolate brown hair hung from her head and down her back. Her hands were clasped before her, the gold ring on her left ring finger just visible.

As the others climbed out, Remus stepped over to the couple and spoke quietly. The man nodded slowly, before stepping forwards a bit. "Harry?" He asked, his voice having a trace of an Eastern European accent. Harry nervously stepped forwards, wary. He sensed Hermione stepping up besides him, offering her support wordlessly. In his eyes Harry could see the man had noticed her actions, but his only reaction was to smile a little wider.

"Welcome home Harry. Welcome home."

Behind the pair, Susan and Daphne watched as Harry folding inwards a little, prompting Hermione to wrap an arm around him. Within her Susan felt a churning mix of emotions. While she was elated that Harry had returned to his family home, deep in her gut she felt envious of him: her own was gone, destroyed by Voldemort in a callous attack. She would never deny him this – Merlin knows he'd been denied so much in his life – but she couldn't help but feel this thread of jealousy. Beside her, Daphne saw the flicker over her friends face and touched her elbow gently. Susan smiled lightly back, thanking her for her concern.

After a moment Harry straightened. "Thank you… Mr…?" he trailed off uncertainly.

"Victor Van Dort. House Potter's butler and Ground Master." He waved the woman forward, and she stepped down and curtsied. "My wife Emily. Maid and House Keeper."

Daphne frowned lightly. "Pardon me, but doesn't the Potter Family have House Elves?"

Victor however just smiled sadly at her. "Yes, the Family did, until recently. They handled all the daily chores; cleaning, cooking and such like. Our roles were as supervisors for them, plus handling odd tasks and other details." He shared a smile with his wife. "Some problems need a human mind to resolve." She giggled, obviously remembering a private joke, before looking at Harry warmly.

"Who're you're friends Harry?" She asked, her voice young and pleasant, though she did have that same faint trace of an accent. Looking at them both, Harry was struck at the contrast between their eyes and the rest of them. Their bodies and movements were those of people in their early twenties, but theirs eyes hinted at a long life, timeless almost.

"This is Hermione, my best friend and… the future Mrs Potter." Harry hugged her close to him as she blushed and smiled. Despite everything, she still found it hard to believe that Harry would one day marry her. It was a dream come true, and she was dreading waking up and finding out it was just that, a dream.

Harry used his free hand to wave towards the adults. "Remus you appear to already know. These are Hermione's parents, Nathan and Emma Granger, and…" he broke off at the sound of a body crashing to the gravel ground: Tonks had fallen out of the back of the Discovery. "…That's Auror Tonks."

Victor chuckled while Emily giggled once more. "Still falling over everything and anything, I see." He turned to regard the other two young witches. "And these two beauties are?"

"Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass." Harry supplied as the two in question blushed under the praise. "They're close friends." Victor's eyebrow rose slightly, and he shared a look with his wife for a moment, before facing Harry once more.

"If I may ask, how much has Lord Black told you of your heritage?"

Harry stiffened before his shoulders slumped. "He didn't get the chance to say anything before…" His breath hitched.

"Ah." Victor said, eyes downcast. "I see." After a moment he straightened. "If you would follow me, I'll cover the basics." With that he turned and walked back to the expansive double doors.

Once the others had gathered round he pushed the two huge oak doors open soundlessly, the halves pivoting smoothly. They opened onto a short entrance hall, with coat hooks and shoe racks to either side. The far end ended in an arched doorway, opening out into a wider, more expansive - and more expensive – hall. Curious, Susan looked over her shoulder, and saw that the doors they had just passed through were set in a wooden surround that filled a similarly arched entrance.

Then they emerged into the hall, and each and every one of them was filled with awe. The hall was the width of the building, with large windows looking out onto formal gardens to the left and a riot of greenery to the right. The upper sections of each window depicted magical scenes, but ones that could be found in the muggle world. Four columns were spaced out in the central area, supporting the roof high above, leaving an open area in the centre.

Beyond them though the other end of the hall was not in one section. On the left a modern styled sliding patio door – much like at the Grangers – led out to a covered pathway that ran along the side of the wing. At right angles to the door was a passageway that went deeper into the manor. From there to about two-thirds of the way across was a closed in room with a set of sliding doors, currently open, that featured a large table and several chairs. It looked like a conference room. On the other wall was another glass sliding door, opening onto another covered pathway running along that wing. Through the gap in between they could see the sidewall continued with a large fireplace and the side of a grand staircase. Sunlight filled the space just hidden.

Victor led them towards the conference room, but paused at the threshold. He turned to look at Harry. "Master Potter..."

"Harry, please."

Victor smiled lightly. "Harry, as the Acting Lord of the Manor, you have to give permission for those not of Potter blood or married to one to enter here, the Lord's Consultation Suite."

Harry looked lost. "Ah... How?"

After Victor had walked him through the ridiculously easy process, they gathered on one side of the massive main table as Victor moved to a wide set of drawers. He brought back a truly massive scroll, easily five feet long, and judging by the thickness, at least that in length. Removing the ribbon around it, he laid the scroll on the table before them, right in the centre, before with a gently push set the ends unrolling. The wooden rods fell off the ends of the table, making the scroll a good eight feet long. This really was a massive document.

Then Harry saw what was actually _on_ the scroll.

It was a map. The edges faded away, but everything within a four-foot wide circle in the centre was detailed to a degree that he'd never seen before. Harry could easily make out the various buildings marked on the map. The largest was in the centre, a misshapen cross with a spar leading to a square off one end. There were three other large buildings, though nowhere near as large as the main structure, and about a dozen other, smaller ones scattered about, most of which were in a cluster near him.

Harry frowned before looking again. The lowermost two looked familiar...

"Is this... what I think it is?" Nathan asked in a low voice.

"The map of Potter Manor and its grounds." Victor answered.

Harry gasped as he stared at the map, the true scale of the grounds dawning on him. Why, it had to be as big as Hogwarts! It even had it's own lake, and was surrounded by the forest! From this, it appeared that as much as half of the area within the circle was still untouched forest.

"How..." He trailed off, unsure how to begin understand.

Victor however appeared to understand. "Services to the Crown, dating back to the height of the Roman Empire here in England. This manor was initially built back then in fact, a villa with attached local barracks. Over the centuries since it's been added to, remodelled, restored, rebuilt, converted and altered to what we have today. The full history is contained in the library." Hearing her sharp intake of breath, Harry smiled before squeezing Hermione's hand. From the way Victor's eyes darted to her, he had also heard her, but he just smiled before continuing on.

"We are currently in the Lord's Study, where all official business has been dealt with in the past. Behind you is the formal entrance hall, taking over what used to be the original villa." His finger now came to rest on the plan of the manor in the centre of the map. "This area..." he circled the left arm, which ended in a point with a spar running off it to a smaller square. "...is the old barracks, but since the early 16th Century has been remodelled into the guest wing, with the training courtyard now the main, Grand Hall. After a heavy snow in the early 1700's, it was enclosed with a glass roof." His finger moved to the spar and smaller block. "At the time of the remodelling, the then Lord Potter still maintained a body of troops, and so had a new barracks and training hall built here. Stables connect the two buildings."

Daphne spoke up. "The Potter's maintained troops?" The surprise was clear in her tone.

Victor nodded. "From before Artorious – who was later on known as Arthur – to after the Napoleonic War the Lord Potter maintained a body of men in service to the crown. In the run up to the Battle of Waterloo, Lord Potter's force consisted of two companies of Foot, two detachments of Light Infantry, a detachment of Grenadiers, two 18-pound guns and a 4-inch mortar. A small but potent force. Made more so since they had far, far fewer casualties than other units."

"How?"

"Shield charms, woven into the uniforms via runes. Enough to reduce the energy of a musket ball, turning a fatal wound into a stunning one. Also, magic was of great help in healing injuries inflicted, though there were limits. Not even magic can help you if you get hit with a cannonball."

Tonks jaw was hanging, and Susan was not much better. "But... didn't that breach the Statue..."

Victor's eyes twinkled, somewhat like Dumbledore's did a lot. "Not when the entire force is aware of the existence of magic. All the recruits were either a wizard – usually muggleborn - a squib, or a muggle relative to one, by blood or marriage."

Hermione was looking over the map further a field. "What about these other buildings?" She tapped a couple of large buildings in the bottom right region.

It was Emily who spoke up. "Oh, those are not in use anymore. There was a period when a Noble House often had vassal minor Houses under its banner. The Potter's granted them home's within the Manor grounds in return for their support. It was a much better and fairer offer than others, as those minor families were much safer than others who had to find homes themselves, often at a distance from their ruling House. A couple of times in the past the Lord Potter granted an allied House refuge in one of those smaller manors."

Harry looked up at her, then turned to regard Susan and Hermione. Looking back at him, Hermione quickly understood what he was thinking. After a few moments so did Susan. "Harry, you don't have to..."

"Your aunt needs a place to live Susan." Harry gently cut her off before focusing on Hermione. "And... while I've loved it at your place Hermione, I'm worried about what'll happen when word gets out that I'm staying, have stayed, with you." He shivered. "Also, anyone who knows me knows that you're my best friend. If something happened to you or your family..."

"I assure you Harry, the wards and protections here at Potter Manor are second to none. Anyone staying within the boundaries is safe from attack, magical or muggle."

Harry looked sharply at Victor. "So how did Voldemort get in to kill my parents? If it's so well protected, then why are they dead?" Hermione wrapped an arm around him, hoping to help him calm down. Though she too wanted answers to his questions, getting all angry and yelling at Victor would not help.

Victor sighed, his expression turning downcast. "Master Harry... I understand why you ask that. Put simply, in the past Potter Manor has relied more on muggle style defences. This manor is very old, and had ancient wards... wards that were not as effective as more recently crafted ones, and were hideously complicated. But, a wholesale replacement of the wards required the originals being brought down first, leaving the manor vulnerable while the new wards were set in place. Lord Charlus, your grandfather, decided that it was too risky to do so while Voldemort was on the loose. In the end though, they were brought down anyway.

"We are not sure exactly when he learned of the Prophecy, but early in September 1980 Death Eaters began to probe the defences here. They must have been gathering information on the Wards, as on September the Twenty-Third there was the first raid. Seven Death Eaters portkey'ed inside the wall, and reached the front door of this manor before they retreated. They killed four staff.

"The next raid was five days later. A double force of fourteen Death Eaters, with Voldemort himself leading them, arrived right outside the doors. The initial group must have made the portkeys that allowed them in." Seeing the question in Hermione's eyes, Victor added "Portkeys are a relatively recent invention. The Ancient wards had no defence against them, as they were raised long before."

"One group entered the manor following Voldemort, the other prevented the staff from assisting. The Floo had already been shut off from the other end, likely by a spy in the Ministry. Once inside, Voldemort used his power to bring all the wards down, allowing his other forces entry... including a force of Acromantula recruited from a nest in the deepest part of Epping Forest.

"Fortunately, Potter Manor has defences not tied to the wards, and so the Death Eaters and their allies were forced to withdraw. But... the cost was, high." There was a desolate look in Victor's eyes.

"We lost Lord Charlus, his wife Dorea and two-thirds of the Manor staff, plus all the House Elves." He was silent for a moment, before continuing.

"Afterwards, your father decided that it was time to leave Potter Manor. He arranged for all the upgraded warding to be done while he took you and your mother away. The story that was put out was that Potter Manor was unsafe, destroyed in the attack. He came every couple of weeks to look over what was happening, and to provide the needed blood to key the new wards to the Potter line.

"However, five times in the following months the Death Eater's located and went after your parents, forcing them to flee each time. I believe that is why they accepted Dumbledore's plan to keep them safe, despite their misgivings. They went to Dumbledore's house in Godric's Hallow October 24th, 1981."

Hermione gasped as she realised the significance of that date. Only a week later the Potters had died. The timing raised damning questions in her mind. Had the headmaster set Harry's parents up to die? If so, why? What possible motive could he have had to arrange for the deaths of, by all accounts, two of the most brilliant members of the Order?

"All the new warding was completed in time for the new year." Victor continued. "While the threat of the Death Eaters was reduced we, the remaining staff, decided as a group to have the entire ward package installed to the level that Lord James had called for. When the Ministry complained, we used that card to fend them off."

"So... the wards are still at that level?" Tonks asked, eyes wide.

A small smile tugged at Victor's mouth. "Yes... yes they are. In fact, they're even better."

Tonk's jaw was hanging low. "How?"

Victor glanced at his wife, who nodded. "It'd be easier to show you."

Moving back around the table, he lead them to the left, around the corner. As he rounded the corner, Harry noted the large double door to the right, beyond which was a large fireplace and then a broad, marble staircase.

Then he saw the expanse to his left... and found his breath stolen. While it wasn't as large as the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the hall that stretched out before him was far grander and just as impressive.

Each side had a balcony made of dark wood that ran the length of the hall between the narrow marble columns that held up a roof that came down over the balconies. Red tile sloped up and out to join the glass roof that came down from the centre on dark, wrought iron arches. Warmth and life was brought to the hall by the sunlight that cascaded down from the ceiling to fall across the small groupings of comfortable chairs and the plants that either filled planters or crawled up the columns, across the roofs or along the balconies, with some hanging down from baskets hung from the joints in the roof high above. He recognised Ivy, Virginia Creeper and Clematis amongst the range. In one corner a grand piano sat, as if waiting for a player. The floor was made of glossy wood, without a seam to be seen.

"Mistress Lily loved this hall." Emily sighed. "I'd often find her here with one of the books from the library, reading in the sunlight."

"This is... wonderful, Mr Van Dort." Hermione breathed. She was already falling in love with the Manor.

"Yes, it is isn't it?" Victor answered, a smile in his voice. "But what I wanted to show you is here."

They turned their heads to look at him, to see him standing at the foot of the grand staircase. Laid in the stone of the floor was a single round slab, easily eight feet across. The texture looked a little different, but what really drew the eye was the etched design in the stonework. They all moved over to stand at the edge, looking down at the design. Not one of them felt comfortable with the idea of actually standing on the stone itself.

It was a dragon, curled into a circle so that the snout was resting on its tail. Held within the dragons embrace was what Daphne and Susan recognised as the Potter coat of arms, and the eye sparkled from a jewel that had been embedded into the stone. The etching was so lifelike that each one of them felt like it would rear up at any moment.

Harry blinked. For a moment he could have sworn...

The yellow gem flared, and a misty form began to rise up from out of the stone. Startled, they all took a step back as the mist twirled and grew, gaining definition and form. Harry was eerily reminded of the time when his and Voldemort's wands had locked up, and the ghostly forms of those killed by that wand had emerged.

The mist settled down, the form of a dragon standing before them, completely filling the circle. Its body was steaming ever so slightly, as was the edge of the circle of stone. The eyes gleamed yellow in the blue-grey translucent form, underneath an array of horns. The two largest branched out like the antlers of a stag, while the other, smaller horns flowed around, forming the impression of a crown.

Harry found its gaze locked on his, as if it was looking right through him. Despite the intensity of the stare, he was unable to move or break eye contact. He felt like a bug, pinned to a wall, being examined from all angles. And yet... his gut instinct was not to flinch away. He'd faced down Acromantulas, a real dragon, a Basilisk, Dementors and Voldemort without cowering. If this was a test like he suspected, he would not be found wanting.

For several long seconds neither moved, the others watching in apprehension. Hermione was almost frantic; only Emily's hand on her shoulder prevented her from springing forward and dragging Harry further away. That and the reasoning that as this was the Potter's ancestral home, nothing here would harm him. Still, she was terrified of what could happen...

It was almost a shock when the dragon slowly bowed its head to Harry, the motion and pose one of submission. _"You truly are of Potter blood. Few others can stand unflinching before me." _ The 'voice' was not one single voice, but sounded like three or four speaking together, creating a powerful yet nebulous symphony.

"Err... thanks." Harry flushed at the praise. "You being...?"

"_I am Racknor, guardian of Potter Manor and Warden of the Wards. I serve House Potter, protecting this place, until the End Time, when the stars go out."_

Daphne was starting to piece things together. "The Potter's have a Guardian Spirit?" Pure awe was in her voice.

"Yes... of a sorts." Victor explained. "The full story's in the journals, but the short version is that Racknor here was once enslaved by a Dark wizard, who used him to terrorise and destroy. When he came here however, the Potters broke the enslavement. But, Racknor suffered fatal injuries distracting the wizard to allow the Potters to end him. He insisted that the debt he owed them was still unfulfilled, and all but demanded he be bound to the Potter Family, to defend them, their land and their descendants for eternity."

Hermione's sense of justice flared up. "And they enslaved him?" She half screeched, outraged.

"Hermione..." Harry softly spoke up. "If my experience is anything to go by, you don't argue with a dragon." He then faced her. "Also; Dobby." That took the wind out of her sails.

A rumble from behind him made them all look once at the dragon ghost. Harry got the strong impression it was laughing. _"I admire your spirit youngling, and your beliefs. But remember; _I_ chose this. Now, Victor..." _Those two gleaming eyes turned to gaze on the older man. _"He's the bearer. You must show him."_

Victor nodded, and a hopeful gasp escaped Emily's lips. "Please, follow me." Victor's voice was tinged with excitement as he turned towards the grand staircase. With a shrug of confusion Harry followed, the others in his wake. Behind them all the image of Racknor watched.

At the top there was a small square landing, with a alcove straight ahead in which a very comfortable looking bench-sofa sat. Glancing over his shoulder, Harry realised that anyone sitting on the bench would have an excellent view out and over the hall. On either side, more steps led up to demi-landings before doubling back to another balcony above. There twin doors barred the way further.

"This is the Potter Family's private wing." Victor said as he pushed them open. Both halves swung smoothly and silently. Stepping inside, they entered a roughly 'T' shaped room, with them at the end of one of the arms of the 'T'. The wall to their right had a door mid way down it, while to their left were a series of windows overlooking a rolling lawn that ended in a narrow ribbon of water, partly overshadowed by trees at one end. Between them and the small cliff to the far right, a slice of the rolling fields of north-west Essex could be seen. Paintings hung between the windows, many of which looked like family portraits.

Moving through the room they could see that it was arrayed as an informal living area, with comfortable seating in groups with open spaces. The 'leg' of the 'T' was a bit of shock, as it looked like it had been lifted from an English pub. The sidewall had a long bench seat, looking at a bar with bottles on shelves over a pool table, while the end wall had a dartboard. Skylights in the roof above let in natural light to play over the green felt of the pool table.

"A little bit of vanity on your great-grandfather's part, Harry." Emily smiled wistfully. "He met his future wife in her local pub, her favourite place to hang out. When it was due to be demolished, he tried to buy it for her, but was refused. So he got the contract to gut the place, and saved those bits." She giggled suddenly. "We didn't see them for almost two days after he showed her what he'd done. Had to replace the mattress afterwards; the old one was unusable."

From the expressions on their faces, the other teens were in agreement with Harry; they didn't need to know that!

At the far end were two sets of stairs, one against the wall to the right leading down, the other against the far wall going up. "On the floor below us are the extended family and friends bedrooms, as well as access to the owlery." Victor said as he stepped onto the first step leading up. "Upstairs is the private domain of the Lord, his lady, and any children, plus the occasional previous lord or lady." At the word _children_ Harry and Hermione looked at each other and blushed, as did Susan and Daphne.

Stepping onto the upper floor, Harry looked about keenly and with a sense of remorse in his heart; had things turned out differently, he would have grown up here. The main room was narrower than the living space below, with a lower ceiling and a cosier, more intimate feel to it. Again, one wall was composed of windows overlooking the vast lawn and the small river. To their left there was a glass sliding door out to a modest balcony, while the left wall had half a dozen doors. The far end of the long room had another set of double doors.

Victor walked the length of the room before pausing before the doors. Then he slowly turned to face Harry, his expression both serious and tense. "Harry… what you're about to see… please remember this is not a sick joke." With that rather cryptic – not to mention unnerving – warning, he turned around once more and opened the doors.

* * *

**A/N: **I confess: This story will have a couple of minor crossover elements. The first we've seen here (and a e-cookie to whoever spots the connection), while the other will be later. Next chapter we'll look in on others once more, and then we have the Will reading. Yes, it's almost here!


	24. Gathering Allies

**A/N: **Well, here's the next chapter. I've added date/place stamps to each scene, since this chapter covers a range of days and locations. All building up to the start of the will reading, which WILL be next chapter! However, there's a lot more going on as well as these scenes... More details will come when revalent.

**EDIT 24/12:** There is now a direct address to my rough map of Potter Manor on my author page, Copy-paste into browser to view it. Not totally final, but close enough. All the main details are there. Now, on with the show...

* * *

_***Tuesday 16**__**th**__**, Potter Manor***_

"Madam Bones, welcome."

"Thank you Mister Potter. So this is the fabled Potter Manor…" Amelia looked over his shoulder down the length of the Grand Hall behind him. Harry was not fully aware of it, but the effect of having the sun filled hall, with its warm wooden balconies and arrays of plants, behind him created a powerful image.

"Yeah… bit overwhelming…" He shifted uncomfortably. Amelia, seeing this, gave him a small smile.

"I can barely imagine. Nevertheless, however much I wish to explore this wondrous place, I am very busy right now. Your message said you had important topics to discuss with me?" She looked at him sternly, noticing the nervous looks on both her nieces and Miss Grangers faces, who were stood to each side of him.

"Oh yes. Right this way." Harry quickly led her to the office.

Once they were sat, Amelia eyed him warily, noting how Hermione sat to his left, while Susan was to his right. "So…?"

Harry cleared his through before he began. "Madam Bones… as you might have guessed, I've been made aware of not only my families legacy & responsibilities, but also the options now open to me. If you don't mind me asking; where have you been staying since…" He trailed off, the embarrassment clear.

Amelia's eyes narrowed slightly. "I've been renting a room at the Leaky Cauldron. Why do you ask Mister Potter?"

Harry looked her in the eye. "Because I've learned that Potter Manor also has a number of smaller manors within the grounds. They need some work, but are sound. I intend to offer you one."

Amelia's eyes jumped open in surprise. "Mister Potter… you can't just give me a house on your lands!"

Harry sighed. "No, I can't, unfortunately. Not without something in return. Which is the second thing I wanted to discuss…" He glanced down at the table. "I hope you understand this better than I do."

Amelia leaned forwards a bit. "What are you on about?"

Harry swallowed nervously. "An Alliance between House Potter and House Bones. Also both allied with House Black, and all with House Greengrass. Hopefully we can get House Longbottom in as well. Maybe one or two of the minor Houses as well…"

The monocle Amelia wore now fell from her eye as her brow rose to disappear beneath her hairline. Harry had just listed five of the seven remaining Ancient and Noble Families! Such a union, three 'Light' families and two 'Dark', would be the single most powerful political group ever seen. Why, it would take every other family aligning together to outvote such a block!

She had to take a moment to get over her shock. "Mister Potter… are you aware of what such a move means?"

Harry shrugged. "Not completely. I know it will allow us to stop Voldemort gaining even more control of the government, and likely will be of great help when it comes time to drag the magical world into the twentieth century. Most important for us however, it lets you move in within the Manor's Ward line, keeping you safe." At her raised eyebrow, he continued.

"You're the last family Susan's got. And… hopefully…" He trailed off, blushing madly as he looked towards Susan.

Her niece was blushing just as much as Harry, but found her voice to pick up the explanation. "We told them about Consorts the other day. Harry's offering me the chance to have a Contract with him and House Potter, complete with wedding!" Her excitement bubbled up towards the end of her statement, accentuated by the beaming smile she wore. Amelia noticed that her arm had snaked around Harry's as she hugged into his side.

"As the next Lady Potter, I would and will accept Susan as a sister-wife with open arms." Hermione stated, her tone slightly ambivalent. At Amelia's look, she elaborated. "I'll admit; I'm not endeared to the idea of 'Contract Marriages' at all. But… At least this way, Susan can officially be part of the family."

Amelia slowly sat back, looking at the three of carefully. Having Harry Potter, 'The-Boy-who-Lived', as a son-in-law was the dream of mothers the length of the country… when they weren't dreaming of being 'Mrs Harry Potter' themselves. From a personal standpoint, Amelia knew she'd be a fool to turn this down. She'd worried over the future of her family line for years now, ever since the deaths of Susan's parents, her second oldest older brother and his wife. Amelia had been set to marry her sweetheart, but the Death Eaters, in one of their first major raids, had struck the wedding party. Her love had been struck down, while her own injuries had cost her the chance of ever having children. With such a dual loss, she'd thrown herself into her work, determined to bring those monsters to justice. The last ten years however had eroded her spirit, as she came up against increasing levels of corruption, nepotism and plain stupidity. Again and again she'd brought the same people in on charges, and each and every time they were let off without any reprimand of any kind. Things had worsened in the last few years, to the point where she was beginning to lose her faith in the system. It was no wonder her younger squib brother had left the magical world at fifteen, joining the British Army. They'd stayed in contact, but while he'd gone on to have two wonderful children – one of which was magical – the current laws prevented his line inheriting the Family Legacy. Laws, she had learned, had only been put into place within the last twelve years. She had grown bitter and cold.

It had been the birth of Susan that had allowed her, for the first time since that terrible day when her bright future was destroyed in a flash of green, to drop the cold, harsh Auror mask she wore. The tiny infant had touched something in her, and the darkness had receded. She'd rediscovered the young woman that she had been before, and whenever she felt the darkness close in once more, she'd visited her elder brother, to see Susan.

When they had died in that fire, she had at first been convinced that it had been deliberate. Her eldest Brother Edgar had been a major thorn in the Death Eaters sides during the war, until he and his wife had been brutally murdered. Amelia was sure that those Death Eaters that escaped justice would continue to be vindictive to her Family, and had gone after the other siblings. But nothing ever came up, all evidence pointed to it merely being a tragic accident. As the last magical family of the orphan, Amelia had taken Susan home, looking after as her own. She regretted deeply the lack of time she had been able to give to the growing child, but they had both helped heal the other.

But always, in the back of her mind, she had been aware of one simple fact: it was all up to Susan to continue the Bone's Family. She'd hoped, but with the trend for families to have fewer and fewer children, Susan's prospects for happiness had faded.

Now though, Harry had given her the offer she needed, and from the look on her niece's face, one she was eager for. As far as she could see there was no downside to this offer.

"Mister Potter… I… I don't know what to say…"

"Say 'I accept' Auntie."

Looking into her niece's eyes, Amelia smiled as she saw the longing in them. "If this is truly what Susan wants… then on behalf of House Bones, I accept your generous offer Mister Potter."

"Harry, please." Harry asked as he held out his hand for her to shake. Before she could however Susan had all but jumped into his lap, and he had to use his arm to hold her as she kissed him heavily. At their side Hermione smiled warmly at the display before turning to look at her.

"As I think they'll be busy for a while, shall we move elsewhere to continue our discussion?" She said with a twinkle in her eye. Laughing freely for the first time in years, Amelia nodded as she stood, following the younger witch out of the conference room. She glanced back at the threshold however. Neither Harry nor Susan appeared to be aware that they had moved at all, as they both wrapped around each other. Amelia smiled warmly at the sight, even as a tear ran down her cheek.

* * *

_***The Rookery***_

Luna was smiling serenely up at the ceiling of her bedroom, admiring the painting she'd done there. She'd only finished it the night before. Central to the image was herself, with Harry and Hermione stood behind her, shoulder to shoulder. Neville was stood just off to one side slightly, while Ginny was on Hermione's free side. Luna had hesitated before adding her childhood friend to the painting. Ginny had not been as good friend since she started Hogwarts. Her first year she'd been… inconsistent. While Luna had learned the reason for this, it had still hurt.

Ginny had been better since, but these last couple of years, since she started dating, she'd drifted away. Most disconcerting however, had been the way that Ginny had watched Harry, even when she was with her current boyfriend. It had been… worrying. Still, she had included her, including the chain that linked them all as friends.

As for Ronald… Luna's smile faded with a dispirited sigh. Due to her gifts, Luna had been able to perceive the good man that Ronald _could _have been. She'd hoped, for many years, that he would grow beyond his existence on his mothers lap, mature and become that man. Not a perfect man, but a good man. Alas, his darker traits and bad habits had taken over, crushing that potential. And that was before the adventure in the Department of Mysteries.

A small smile formed on her lips as Luna thought about that. Her father, bless his heart, was convinced of many things that went on 'down there'. But he'd never managed to slip in to have a look. And she'd just strolled in as you like!

Luna sighed again. She loved her father dearly, but accepted that he was no longer completely sane anymore. Her mother's death had affected them both deeply, but Luna just knew that while she was slowly getting over her loss, her father never would.

Before she could sink further into the depression that haunted her mind the faint flutter of wings from the window captured her thoughts. Looking across she watched as a nearly pure white owl swooped in gracefully to land on her beside cabinet.

"Hello Hedwig. You have a letter from Harry?" The Snowy Owl blinked at her before lifting one leg. As she gently loosened the thread holding it in place, Luna noted that there was another letter on Hedwig's other leg. She could just see the letters 'Nev' on the other as she removed hers. "Neville next?"

The Snowy Owl clicked her beak before bobbing her head. Luna smiled brightly.

"Harry's lucky to have you, you know?"

Hegwig barked lightly, before turning and flying out the window gracefully. Luna sighed softly. She wished she had a pet like Hedwig, something smart and capable. It would have taken the edge off the loneliness. Shaking it off Luna returned her attention to the letter in her hand.

Her smile widened slowly as she read the letter from Harry. He thanked her for her actions at the Ministry, for her support and honest opinion. And he apologised for her injuries sustained during that battle with the Death Eaters. Luna had to shake her head at that. Harry was not, never was at fault for that. Luna was smart enough to know it was partly her own fault for that; the rest of the blame fell on the Death Eater whose spell threw her into the desk. If Luna had been paying more attention, chances were she'd have reacted in time to avoid that. But it still might have happened. And besides, the Death Eater was currently rotting in Azkaban. A fair exchange in Luna's opinion.

She hoped that Hermione could break that guilt-complex that Harry had developed, thought Luna understood it would be a long and difficult process. She didn't know the details, but Luna could tell that it was something that had been drummed into him from a young age, likely his muggle relatives. Such scars took years to recover from, if ever. There had never been any doubt in her mind that Harry would end up with Hermione. The two were perfectly matched.

Her thought's wandered to the train ride home from Hogwarts. The added four girls had been... unusual. Especially the two Slytherins. It was a well-known fact within Ravenclaw of the animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin houses. Most 'Claws appeared to prefer to sit back and let those two tear each other apart. Of course, the frequent clashes of wits and words of Harry and Draco were the most obvious extreme cases, but they were symptoms of the bigger problems. It was very clear that Ronald had bought into the whole 'House Rivalry' completely.

But... Harry and Hermione, the two who were most often in conflict with those in Slytherin, did not. The DA had not included any Slytherins since Hermione had admitted, and Harry and Daphne had agreed, that Ronald would never have stood for it. And most of that house were certainly not trustworthy.

Still, it appeared Harry was starting to build bridges with the other houses. Luna had sensed, almost right away, that Harry was a natural born leader. He'd already proved that with the DA. Now...

It was a happily smiling Luna who looked once more at the painting on her ceiling. Her friends had not forgotten her, and were just as eager to see her again. Life was looking up.

* * *

_***LongBottom Manor***_

Hannah Abbot sat still, staring at Neville, thinking over what he'd just told her. Now, at last, so many things about the quiet, shy Gryffindor made sense. She'd noted how he seemed nervous during those first few days in first year. It had persisted right up until when Harry and Hermione began the DA. In that moment, Hannah had looked at Neville, and seen something quite different. There had been an intensity about him, after the Prophet report of the mass breakout of Azkaban, that had been both scary and yet arousing. The nervousness had been driven away, revealing a strong willed, brave, noble young man just starting to come into his own.

Truthfully, Hannah had been considering approaching him sometime next year, though the thought of doing so with others around had terrified her. Susan had found out her feelings, and after a bit of good-natured teasing, she'd encouraged her to try approaching him sooner rather than later. Susan had admitted that Neville was becoming quite the catch; it was only a matter of time before other witches took note as well.

But it had only been after Susan had told her that she would be spending the summer with Hermione that gave Hannah the courage and determination to try and get to know the mostly unknown Gryffindor. To the rest of their year Neville Longbottom was the clumsy one, the klutz, but was also the least well known of the boys in Harry's dorm. Harry was, well, Harry Potter, but over the last year Hannah had come to the conclusion that there was a heck of a lot more that that to him. Ron Weasley was also well known... and frankly, many wished they didn't know him. Hannah had to eat with her back to the Gryffindor table; Ron's eating habits made her nauseous. About his sole redeeming quality was that he was the worst at everything in the school; one often used way to cheer up a friend after a failed spell was to say 'well, at least it's not as bad as Ron Weasley's attempt'.

Seamus Finnagan and Dean Thomas were well known as well – one a hot-blooded, alcoholic-in-the-making Irishman, the other a budding womaniser – but sweet, shy Neville? He was often overlooked.

Now though, he'd revealed some of his secrets, some of his past.

They sat on a corner bench, one on each arm. Around them were the extensive formal gardens of Longbottom Manor, the ancestral home of Neville's family. He was sat with his head bowed, elbows resting on his knees. Neville looked almost broken, ashamed of the cruel hand fate had dealt him.

"Neville..." Hannah said softly, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. "You've nothing to be ashamed of."

"I don't want pity." He replied quietly, but firmly.

"I understand. Pity demeans you." She allowed her fingers to drift into his hair, slowly stroking his scalp. Feeling some of the tension ease from him, she pressed on. "What happened was horrible, there's no denying that. But you can't blame yourself." Hannah had a suspicion that Neville was suffering from a form of survivors' guilt.

"I don't. Bellatrix..." Pure loathing and hatred filled his voice as he spoke that name.

"Neville, please." Hannah leaned forwards while using her free hand to lift his chin. The tears on his cheeks glistened in the sunlight. "I know it hurts, but you can't let this continue to eat at you. You're a better man than that. I may not know everything that goes on around him, but I do know that Harry's feeling the same thing you are. You two are more alike than people give you credit."

Neville managed a small half smile. "I know. It's hard not to like him."

"Unless you're Draco." She joked lightly.

Neville groaned. "Oh did you have to mention him?"

Hannah sighed. The rumours had flown around Hogwarts that last week. Through naturally cautious and pragmatic, Hannah had no trouble believing the rumours that Draco and his group of 'Death Eater Spawn' were sadistic rapists in the making. She shuddered to think of what life was like for any half-blooded girls like herself who were sorted into that house.

Neville sighed deeply, much of the tension fading away. "I hear what you are saying Hannah, but... I see them, every year... knowing who did that to them..."

Hannah smiled weakly before drawing him close to her, pulling him into a hug. "You are a good wizard Neville, and a great man. I don't think I could face my demons anywhere nearly as well as you."

Neville drew back a touch, enough so that they could look each other in the eye. "I guess we'll have to work on that." He said with a touch of humour.

Hannah felt her face flush. "For how long?" she asked with a small, sly smile.

Neville was not sure where this playfulness was coming from, but he wasn't going to stop it now. "How about a lifetime?"

Hannah's smile widened. "Sounds good…" she half whispered as they closed the gap between them.

The kiss was soft and gentle, mindful of the heavy topics they had discussed. Neither Neville nor Hannah were aggressive or dominant. Instead their kiss was the meeting of equals, a mutually level field. They both knew deep down that what they shared now was a precursor to something stronger, deeper. This was no passing summer fling.

Neville was focusing on the moment, allowing the sensations of the kiss and the feel of Hannah within his arms to drive back the dark memories and emotions. While not as stunningly beautiful as some of the other girls in Hogwarts, Hannah was certainly a pleasantly pretty girl, with a homely 'girl next door' feel to her.

His hand was resting lightly on her waist. He could feel the smooth, soft skin beneath her summer dress. Her hand was resting lightly over his wrist. He felt her tense slightly, just before she gripped his wrist a little more tightly... and slowly began to draw his hand up her body.

"Hannah?" He asked nervously as his hand was lifted higher.

"Shhh… just, enjoy." She whispered back, though he could still hear a nervous tone in her voice.

"Hannah, you don't have to…"

"…I… I want to…"

And then with a moment's hesitation she pressed his hand to the side of her breast, using her fingers to mould his around and under the supple mound.

Neville's mind had gone blank. He could not believe this was happening! Vaguely he could feel the texture of the bra she was wearing, but most of his mind had been taken over by primal male elation.

Hannah meanwhile was relaxing into the action slowly. She knew that she was taking things a bit fast… they had only been seeing each other for just over a week! Yet, she knew this was _right_, somehow. And, if she was honest with herself, she was enjoying the feeling herself.

It was into this scene of young love that Hedwig arrived. Golden yellow eyes fixed unblinking onto the Scion of House Longbottom, with no effect. After a nearly a minute of waiting, the Snowy Owl's patience had run out, and she barked at the oblivious couple.

They both jumped, Neville's hand jerking away like a scalded cat. Two pairs of eyes wide with fright turned frantically towards where the sudden sound came from, only to see an innocent looking snowy owl watching them.

Taking several deep breaths to calm his racing heart, Neville sat back slowly. Once he had calmed down from the burst of panic, he looked back at Hedwig. The owl just clacked her beak before lifting a leg up, offering the letter tied to it.

"Thank you Hedwig." He only just managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Hedwig just narrowed her eyes slightly as he removed the letter. While Neville didn't notice Hannah did, and she began to wonder just how smart the owl really was.

Neville blinked slowly after he'd read through Harry's letter. "Well… that's unexpected."

Hannah looked at him with curiosity.

"Harry's hoping to make a multi-house alliance to fight the Death Eaters. Potter, Black, Bones, Greengrass and Longbottom."

Hannah gasped. While the Abbots were an old house, they had never been in the same league as those families. Only the Carrows and the LeStranges – both known Death Eaters – were of similar status in the magical world, and the Carrows were only just hanging onto that. Malfoy acted as though he was, but those who paid attention knew that he wasn't.

"He's invited both of us to... wait. Potter Manor!"

"I heard it was destroyed in the last war!"

Neville chuckled slightly. "I guess that's what Harry's father wanted everyone to believe. From what I've heard, he was worse that Fred & George in his day."

* * *

_***Wednesday 17**__**th**__**, Greengrass Manor***_

"Thank you Harry."

Harry looked blankly at Daphne, noting how the light streaming through the window illuminated her slim figure through her dress robes. She turned to look at him, blond hair gleaming.

"For what you said earlier. For caring about my family." Her eyes were gleaming with a hint of tears.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, painfully aware he was sitting in her bedroom at 'Greengrass Manor'. She had admitted, almost painfully, that her families home was a 'Manor' only in name; it had once been a coaching inn, a source of income for the family. After the loss of their ancestral home in Sweden they had been forced to make do in England… where the reception was not very welcoming. As time had gone by, the nearby town had grown and surrounded the old coaching inn turned country house. On paper it was impressive: six bedrooms, three floors with living, dining and sitting room on the ground floor and separate living spaces on the other two, and Victorian styling. There was also a basement kitchen and storage chambers. But the reality was much less. Two of the bedrooms were smaller than his old one at Privett Drive, and the ground floor rooms felt small, cramped. The stairs were narrow and steep with little light and low ceilings.

Yet… despite the closed in feelings, the Greengrasses had managed to make the building a home. It was in the little things, small touches that showed that a family lived here. While he'd already seen first-hand that they were not a demonstrative lot like the Weasleys, there was real affection between them. It was all there in the eyes; the quiet, soft voices when they spoke. Lord Greengrass however was clearly not one to mess with. Despite his advanced years, he was still a formidable presence. It was very easy to picture him as a battle-hardened Viking, axe in hand ready to defy the oceans… and anything else that stood against him.

"I know he comes across as cold and distant, but grandfather was pleased when you stressed that my happiness was the most important thing to you." Daphne smiled as she crossed the room in a couple of steps. "That's why he was so quick to agree."

"Quick? You four were talking for at least an hour!" In truth Harry was not really complaining. He understood, just about, what a big thing this would be for the Greengrasses. Proud and unbending, refusing to kneel before another. They'd stayed out of the last war with Voldemort, backing neither side. And until he'd come with his offer, it looked like they would have continued the trend. Heaven knows following the Ministry was a joke.

While the elder Greengrasses had conferred, Daphne's little sister Astoria had been tasked with entertaining him while he waited. Once outside her parent's presence, the young soon-to-be fourth year had giggled before leading him upstairs to the first floor living space, which the four daughters shared as their own. There he'd met Daphne's youngest siblings, adorable nine-year-old twin girls, Carla and Cynthia. Both had been awed at meeting him. Harry had at first felt uncomfortable at the obvious hero-worship, but quickly he found himself disarmed by their cute, cherubic faces and bright blue eyes. Both were, like their sisters, smart and quick-witted, as they had understood that he had come to make their eldest sister happy. They didn't have all the details, but they clearly were quick on the up-take.

Daphne herself had caught up with them later, to find him sat on the sofa with one on each knee, both young girls smiling blissfully as they cuddling into him as he told them about his flight on Buckbeak during Third Year. He'd noticed her arrival, but had continued to talk at her gesture.

The smile that she had turned on him after she saw that had ignited a warm, blissful feeling in him.

Now she sat next to him, placing one hand on his. "Grandfather's always been cautious Harry. He's been worried about the Family for most of his life." Looking up, he was slightly startled to see a tear in her eye. "Thank you Harry."

Harry shrugged, a little uncomfortable. "You saved me from myself Daphne."

"Maybe." She half whispered. "But you're the bigger hero." Her finger jumped to his lips, stilling them, while he expression hardened. "Yes, you _are _a hero Harry. Not because of that 'Boy-Who-Lived' crap. It's what you've done since that makes you one. Had I not known Hermione like I did, it would have been easy for me to consider your adventures as the antics of a typical Gryffindor, always getting into trouble, looking for it. But thanks to her, I considered that maybe things were a lot deeper and far more complicated than that.

"I know now that it was never a case of you looking for trouble, but that it kept finding you by itself. And once you knew it was there, you had to deal with it, as no one else would. You chose to do what was right, instead of taking the easy option, no matter what." Daphne continued as she gently traced her other hand across Harry's shoulders.

Leaning in, she whispered. "I know that I'll never be number one in your heart Harry; that place is taken by Hermione. But I know that you'll never treat me like some prize or a possession."

Harry chuckled nervously. "Hermione would kill me if I even thought about doing that."

Daphne smiled indulgently. "It's not in your nature Harry. I know that now. But thank you." With that she closed the gap between them slowly, gently pressing her lips to his.

It took a moment or two, but Harry responded and began to kiss her back, and Daphne felt herself melting into him. There was something else in his kiss though, something that had not been there before. He seemed to be putting more of himself into the kiss, his hand caressing her waist and forearm gently. It was at that moment that Daphne knew that Harry loved her. Maybe not yet to quite the same extent that he did Hermione, but there was love between them. It warmed her heart to know this, to know that she was accepted for who she was.

A small shiver ran through her as his hand drifted up her spine, a gentle caress that hinted at the lover he would become. This was the man she had fallen in love with, a gentle, caring man who would march through the gates of hell for those he cared about. With a low moan from deep in her throat, Daphne lifted a hand enough to run her fingers through his hair, playing with the uncontrollable black locks.

* * *

_***Thursday 18**__**th**__**, Ministry of Magic***_

Arthur Weasley trudged into his office Thursday morning, head bowed in thought. Ever since Bill had come to him last week he'd been deep in thought, thinking over everything. He'd gone through the motions at work, but everyone else had seen that he was preoccupied. Not that any had bothered trying to find out what ailed him. Most of the other 'workers' at the Ministry looked down on him anyway, as to their minds he was a 'Blood Traitor'. Arthur however had never let that affect him. He did his job, got paid, and was able to indulge his past-time, trying to understand muggle ways and machines. He knew that most of his co-workers considered him to be a fool, easily led and submissive. But it didn't bother him. He knew the truth, and so shrugged off their contempt as unimportant.

But the revelations that Bill had brought to him… that was serious. Arthur's sense of honesty was affronted at his wife's duplicity… and he knew that the Goblins would not have lied; they had nothing to gain. Arthur was not blind; he knew that his pay would not have covered sending all their children to Hogwarts for the full seven-year course. He'd only planned to have two or three kids, but Molly had pushed and pushed for a daughter. Arthur, despite knowing the odds – the Weasleys were known for having a very low proportion of girls born in their line – had indulged her, until at last they had Ginny. And, despite the hardship he knew would come from having to raise seven children, he found himself loving them all, loving the fact that the Burrow was always filled with the sounds of his children playing around. And little Ginny… she had become the apple of his eye. Deep down, Arthur knew he'd been indulgent with her, not as firm as he likely should have. But he loved her too much.

It was only a few months before her first birthday that Molly had told him that she just learned that she had an Inheritance that would allow them to send all their children to Hogwarts. Arthur, still overjoyed at the recent defeat of He-Who-Not-Be-Named, had not questioned her. It was not suspicious really; the number of people who had died meant there had to be dozens of inheritances waiting to be collected.

And so he'd taken the money, used it to bolster his income and sent his children off to Hogwarts one by one, each time filled with pride and happiness. When Bill graduated near the top of his class Arthur had felt like he was walking on clouds, he was so proud of his first son! To then be accepted at Gringotts… well, it was an honour for them all. Then when Charlie began his apprenticeship with the dragon handlers, once more Arthur had been filled with pride. His sons were following their dreams, which was the most important thing in Arthur's opinion.

Molly, however… she had not approved of either son's choice of role. She'd gone on about having a 'respectable' job with the Ministry so much that in the end Arthur had to order her to pipe down and just be proud of their sons.

Arthur sighed. He was not totally blind to his wife's faults. He knew she was pushy and domineering. And she was real bloody clingy! She'd dropped hints, in her usual subtle way – which is to say, not subtly at all – that they should really stay at the Burrow, continue to live with the rest of the family. Arthur understood a little of the reason for this: both her twin brothers had been killed in the last war, and Molly was terrified of losing any more of her family. But she'd pushed too hard, and driven both young men away. Personally Arthur thought it would do them some good to learn how to live on their own, but Molly never saw things that way.

Now his eldest son, his successor, had been suspended from his dream job because of Molly's lies and deceit. What had she been thinking, stealing Harry's money? And then all but forcing that remarkable young man together with their daughter… the daughter she'd all but programmed to fall in love with him? After everything Harry had done for them?

Without thought, he withdrew the report from St Mungo's, his eyes running over the findings once more. Layer after layer of conditioning, along with potions applied subtly, over a long period of time. This was more like something he'd expect of Lucius Malfoy.

_How _could she have withdrawn that money? You had to not only have the vault key, but also had to be either the owner of the vault and key or have a Gringotts permission slip; just scrawling one's name on a scrap of parchment was not enough. Gringotts enforced the rule that all the proper forms had to be filled in first. Only then could another take gold from someone's vault. The only exception was…

Arthur sagged back in his chair, eyes wide. It had to be, there was no other way. Molly _must _have signed a betrothal contract between Ginny and Harry. As the mother of the bride-to-be, she then would have more leeway.

Anger seeped into him as he thought about how much his wife must have gone behind his back to arrange all this, and keep it from him. It was smelling just like the first few weeks of their relationship, when she slipped him a love potion to 'get his attention'. When he'd found out, he'd been furious. He'd felt used. But, despite everything, he knew that he was fond of her. Despite her flaws, she did have some good traits that appealed and attracted him. It was why he hadn't been suspicious at first; he'd thought he'd finally worked up the courage to ask her out. In the end, they had worked it all out and stayed together.

But now… it seemed her old bad habits were ruling her once again. Arthur had hoped to have cured her of those controlling urging she had, but sadly she had resisted. Now the whole family was going to suffer. He already had evidence in Ginny's medical examination. If she had tried to control others in the same way…

He dragged both hands down over his face. There was no way the Weasleys could pay back Harry right off. The principle amount alone… At best, they'd cover the interest and a fraction of the principle. Even if Bill, Charlie and the twins chipped in, they would still be paying back the money when his great-grandkids were attending school. Not Hogwarts, as that would have to be sacrificed to do it. Even Percy _might _chip in, once he heard.

That was what Arthur had been struggling with all week. Trying to figure out a way to handle this without destroying his Family, ruining his son or making an enemy of the goblins.

He didn't know what would happen tomorrow, but he knew it was likely to be brought up at some point. Although it had been Molly acting alone, as Head of House and her Husband, Arthur would be held accountable for her actions.

* * *

_***Granger Home, Brentwood***_

Nathan glanced at the clock before he shared a bemused look with his wife when the doorbell rang that evening. Who would be calling at this hour? It had been a long, shocking day, on top of a very long and trying week, and Nathan really just wanted to go to bed and crash before tomorrow. As he approached the door he could see the outline of a tall, well built person through the pebbled glass.

When he opened it however, he instantly recognised the face between the two-tone camouflage green jacket and the red beret. "Dan!"

Daniel Keith Granger grinned at his younger brother. "Nathan." Then he pulled his brother into a backslapping hug before reaching down to pick up the two huge duffel bags at his feet.

"What brings you here at this time in the evening?" Nathan asked good-naturedly. Although it was barely more than two years between them, he had always looked up to his older brother Daniel. They had similar builds, though Daniel took even more after their father, being that fraction taller and noticeably more muscular. When they had been younger Daniel had been the more hot-headed, outgoing one, but he'd always been there to protect his quiet little brother. While his academic skills had been not as good, his physical abilities had been top rate. Once Nathan had cleared secondary school, Daniel had followed his dream and joined the Army. Nathan had been really chuffed when he heard he'd been accepted into the prestigious 2nd Parachute Regiment.

"Looking for a place to crash for a few days." Daniel said, before dumping his bags to approach Emma. "Emma, as stunning as ever."

Emma smiled warmly as she stepped forward to hug her brother-in-law. Daniel had always been a protector, a reassuring presence. She had always been fond of him. "Hello Daniel." She kissed his cheek, having to stand on tiptoe to reach. Daniel Granger was a tall man, well over six feet. "You want anything?"

"Coffee would be excellent my dear."

Once they were all sat around the kitchen table, Nathan looked at him curiously. "So, why do you need a place to stay? I thought you lived on base, ever since…" He trailed off, a grimace on his face.

Daniel sighed. "Yeah, I was. Couldn't go back to the house, not after what she did. I've put it on the market." He shifted. "I just want to be shot of the place."

Nathan and Emma shared a look. The only real flaw in Daniel's life had been his marriage. Carol Beckham had been attracted to his 'Military' image… or rather, his pay check. Emma had known - almost from the outset - that Carla had been a shallow, greedy individual. Out for herself, with no regard for others feelings.

Oddly, she'd gotten the same vibes from certain members of the Weasley family.

Sadly, Daniel Granger had fallen head over heels in love with the slim figured, haughty blond. At first, for the first half dozen years, things had been good between them. He was happy, she appeared content, and they had a son, Richard. But as the years passed Carol had become bitter, and the arguments become more common. She grew distant, cold… towards both of them. Daniel constantly had to cover her debts that she seemed to relish running up. And her scorn for his lack of reaching higher rank – he'd been promoted to Captain just before their wedding, and was still at that rank while others his age were Majors or Colonels – appeared to have no limit.

Then the affairs had started, shortly after he'd been deployed to the Falklands. Emma had noticed the change first, but quick it grew to the point where it was only Dan who didn't see it. Even his son, only five at the time, had seen the difference in his mom. The air in their home was filled with tension and mistrust.

It had all come out that day when Daniel had come home on leave early, to find his wife in their bed, with not one, but three other men. She'd been riding an African as black as night, his weapon ploughing her depths. She'd had the other two each side, jerking both off at once. The evidence that this had been going on for some time was clear on her chest.

The divorce had dragged on for almost six months, as Carol had fought every inch of the way. And she fought dirty. She'd tried to drag Daniel through the mud, ruin him and his career. Paint him as a cold, unfeeling bastard. But she'd tried too hard, and got herself caught in a lie. After that, her credibility and case crumbled like dust. The final nail was when nine-year-old Richard was asked who'd he prefer to live with.

"Daddy. She's a cold hearted bitch without a heart."

Carol had been furious; she'd moved to slap him across the face, but had been restrained by Daniel, who'd moved like greased lightning. He hadn't hurt her, but the look in his eyes had utterly demolished any fight in her. She'd left the office with her tail between her legs and a tiny fraction of what she'd been demanding as a settlement. None of the Granger family had seen her since.

Emma cleared her throat. "So, how long will you be staying?" She asked, trying to get past the old memories. Mentally she was actually thankful that Harry and the others had moved the bulk of their things to Potter Manor yesterday. They were planning on sending a second load of Hermione's tomorrow. On the topic of themselves moving… they were still undecided. On the one hand, they recognised the dangers that had been almost pounded into them by their daughter, Harry and his adult friends. But this was their home, home for the last twenty years. To just give it up and move out… it would be massive wrench. And a sign of submission, being chased out of your own home on the mere threat of attack…

"Don't know." Daniel shrugged. "Long as I'm welcome, I suppose… or I get my own place."

Emma shared a confused look with Nathan, "I meant… when do you have to report for duty once more?"

"I don't. I'm retired, as of this morning."

Nathan almost choked on his tea. "What?"

"My tour's over Nathan. Twenty years service complete."

Nathan's eyes unfocused. "Damn… it has hasn't it?"

Emma however was looking at her brother-in-law with concern. "But… what will you do now?"

A shrug was her reply. "I'll find something. Combats a young man's game." A small smile began to form on his lips. "Speaking of young men, has your little princess brought one around yet? What is she now, fifteen, sixteen?"

Emma smiled. "Nearly seventeen, going on twenty-seven." She shared a glance with Nathan; Daniel was not aware that Hermione was a witch. He knew she was 'Gifted', and knew a little about her friends, but was still in the dark in regards to the magical world. "As for boys… she's got a boyfriend now."

Daniel looked at his brother with concern. "Not that Ron character, right?"

Nathan looked up startled. "Why would you think that?"

"The worried expression on your face."

Nathan grimaced. He'd been thinking about the fact that he couldn't tell his own brother the truth about Hermione. "No, not that lazy, greedy slob."

Emma cut in smoothly. "She's with Harry."

Daniel sat back. "Ah. Well, when do I get to meet him?"

Emma frowned lightly. "Things are going to be hectic for him this weekend. His Godfather passed away a couple of week ago, and his will reading is tomorrow. Plus he's still getting settled into his ancestral home..."

Daniel chuckled. "You're making him out to be royalty!"

Emma shared another look with her husband. How right he was!

* * *

_***Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry***_

High in his office at Hogwarts, Dumbledore sat staring out of the window at the setting sun, a half-empty glass of Fire-whiskey in his hands. Tomorrow was going to be a black day for his soul... in many ways. He hated that he had to deny Harry what he was rightfully due, but it was the only way to save the Magical World. In truth Sirius should know better than to place a fortune in the hands of a mere boy; such a sum of gold would just go to the boys head, and be squandered and wasted on frivolous things.

Then again, this was Sirius, the definitive man-child if there ever was one.

No, the Black Family fortune had to be redistributed into the Wizarding World, for the Greater Good of the whole. It had to, so it could balance the constant influx of money coming from the muggleborns. So far most of them hadn't realised the potential damage they could do with that kind of ready cash. A fortunate thing really. They already did enough with their ideas of 'Equality for All' and the abolishment of all hereditary titles, the erosion of family values and Peerage. And with miss Granger so close to young, impressionable Harry... It was just far too dangerous to allow him to have such ready funds. They just did not understand that the Magical world could only survive gradual changes. Too many wanted radical changes right now, changes that would bring everything crashing down, leaving them with anarchy. No, change had to be gradual, had to be slow, to allow society to adjust. He'd already pushed things as much as he dared, and once nearly went too far. When he first wanted to accept a _woman _as a Professor… the outrage from the old, pureblood elite had been fierce. But he'd stood his ground, and in the end had emerged victorious. But it had been a near thing, and he was reluctant to push things that far again. Now though, it was accepted as normal for there to be women Professors, shopkeepers… even Ministry Department Heads, though Amelia Bone's climb to that lofty position as head of the DMLE was one filled with danger and trouble. Several times the old Purebloods had tried to block her, but when faced with only her wanting the job… they had to back down. Even in the Wizengamont women were allowed to represent families… though the Head of House had to approve. And it all started with Dumbledore taking on Minerva McGonagall as his replacement as Transfiguration Professor.

It was fortunate that he'd managed to divert the owls sent out to the two of them. Without them present, he could step in and accept whatever they had been left by Sirius on their behalf. A couple of notes of proxy and things would be all right. It had required copying their signatures from some official school documents, but that was a minor thing in the grand scheme of things. He fully intended to let them have the bequests in time… just not now, when there were more important things for them to focus on. Later, once Voldemort was gone, he could ensure that they received whatever Sirius left them. Dumbledore just hoped that someday they would forgive him for what he had to do. Although he had no proof, he felt that in his bones his time on this plane of existence was drawing to a close. He had only a few years, at most, before age would finally catch up with him and he would embark on the 'next great adventure'. He only hoped that after he was gone, he would remembered fondly, as a brilliant and far-sighted man, who did what was necessary to ensure the stability and survival of the Magical world.

Even if, some days, he couldn't forgive himself.

He knew that he wasn't going Dark. Everything he did for was all for the Greater Good of the World. Pain was unavoidable, he just had to chart a course to avoid the most pain for the most people… and more often than not in the past, he had. Sometimes however, one had to be sacrificed, to save everyone.

He wasn't going Dark, simply because he accepted that terrible fact.

He wasn't.

Slugging back the remaining fire-whiskey, Albus stood and stepped towards his bedchamber, weariness, age and grief dragging his shoulders and soul down.

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, still trying to make Dumbles into an object of pity rather than hatred... Hard, I know.

And congrats to **Power Taco'**, **'LeinadDjo'** and **'Maxtaf' **for getting the correct crossover guess. Yep, Victor and Emily are from 'Copse Bride' The link is via an actress... Helena Boham Carter plays Bellatrix, but also voices Emily (though unless you saw the credits, you wouldn't have guessed...)

Why are they here? We'll find out... when Harry & Co do ;-)

Had some good suggestions, but those three got it right. Alfred's not a nod to Batman, sorry! Purly chance that!**  
**


	25. By My Will

**A/N: **Here we are at last, the Will! Thank you all so much for your patience: I know it's not easy to wait for chapters to a story you're enjoying.

One thing, before we start: I would like to borrow a line from **robst**: I don't own these characters, so I may do things with them that you disagree with. I may portray them in ways you don't. I mention it now as Draco in this chapter is particually vile...

* * *

Friday the 19th dawned clear and bright. The Ministry of Magic Atrium however was dark and gloomy, the few who made it into work on time hurrying through. No sunlight ever touched the cold floor here. The Fountain of Magical Brethren still lay in ruins, the remains of the statues piled up in the pool. The atmosphere was oppressive, fear laden.

One of the Floo grates flared, and Amelia Bones strode out. Unlike the others emerging she walk upright, back straight. She refused to be cowed. Despite the attack and destruction of her home, she refused to yield to Voldemort or his shadow.

Waiting for one of the lifts to return, she was joined by a man. "Erik." She smiled slightly to the taller, pale blond. Despite the supposed 'Dark' leaning of his family, Amelia had gotten on well with the Greengrass family. Lord Greengrass was a most formidable man, who had a soldier's hard edge to him that she recognised and respected. Yet, he was also softly spoken and eloquent, winning him support in the Wizengamot. She'd met his son Erikson several years back; when she'd had a tip off that his potion supply business was using illegal means to procure ingredients. As it turned out, the 'Tip-off' had been part of plan to discredit the Greengrasses, the evidence planted. Amelia suspected, but could never prove that the 'former' Death Eaters – likely Lucius – were behind things, to punish the Greengrasses for not following Voldemort. Afterwards, they had formed a casual friendship and healthy respect for each other.

"Amelia." He replied blue eye's sparkling with mirth.

As the lift arrived she glanced at the rolls of parchment he held… rolls that had the same legends as her own. "Contracts Office?"

Erikson smiled in reply, his eyes dropping to the rolls that poked out of the bag she carried. "Yes. I see Mister Potter was serious." He said as the doors closed.

"I have found that he does not joke around in matters such as this." Amelia answered. She sighed after a few moments. "I would love to be a fly on the wall during the Sirius Black will reading though."

Erikson nodded. "I'm sure that it will be an… interesting reading. Given what I know of those who will be attending…"

* * *

Just like in the Ministry, Diagon Alley was fear laden, the air heavy. Those few that were out and about hurried from shop to shop, heads bowed and shoulders hunched. Whereas in past years the shopkeepers had displayed goods outside their storefronts, now everything was tucked away inside. Everyone was watching everyone else, jumping at shadows and constantly checking to see where the nearest bolthole was, just in case…

Three figures walked briskly down the Alley, two of them with their heads bowed beneath the hooded robes they wore. Although there were a few others out and about, neither wished to be recognised. In contrast, the third strutted along like he owned the whole alley. Draco Malfoy had gone all out, splashing out on expensive clothing to fit a true noble like himself. It was only proper, after all, that the heir to two rich, noble families be dressed in the finest. It was paid for with money that he technically didn't own yet, but such matters never concerned the young Malfoy. Behind him his mother and aunt watched every figure they passed, hoping…

Both witches exhaled in relief when they stepped over the threshold into Gringotts. Even Voldemort knew that Gringotts was Goblin Land, and thus Neutral territory. Not that that stopped him from putting pressure on the Goblins to side with him. In the end, the Goblins had stayed out of the conflict, making profits by working both sides.

The three made their way past the tellers towards the rear of the bank floor. Narcissa Malfoy lowered her hood, allowing her pale blond hair to fall back into place. "Could you direct us to Goldbag?" she asked politely, if a little coldly, to the Goblin sat at the Enquires desk. In response the Goblin looked at her, nodded slowly – with the merest hint of a scowl – before gesturing to his side. A younger looking Goblin stepped forward, and after a brief burst of Gooblygook, turned to the two witches and one young wizard.

"Follow me."

He led them over to one of the doors at the rear of the bank floor that fed into one of the passageways that formed the banks inner offices. At the far end they reached a solid looking set of double doors, with a pair of armoured goblin guards. Entering, they saw clusters of chairs were scattered about, all facing a podium with a suited Goblin stood behind it, shuffling parchment about. "Three to see you Adjudicator Goldbag." The younger goblin intoned as he stopped before the podium.

"Very well." The elder Goblin looked at Narcissa shrewdly. "Lady Malfoy, Mr Malfoy, you are expected." His gaze shifted to the second witch, who had yet to remove her hood, while Draco looked like he was about to speak until his mother's hand landed on his shoulder. "Mrs LeStrange, I assume?"

Bella, her hands shaking, pulled the hood back enough to reveal her face to the Goblin. He nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. Please take a seat while we await the others. Also remember that while you may keep your wands, they are not to be drawn at anytime during the reading. We don't want any… accidents."

Both Narcissa and Bellatrix nodded in understanding, but Draco spoke out. "How dare you demand that I wait like some pathetic muggle! Everything belongs to me by right!"

Goldbag looked down his nose at the young… man. "You have no way of knowing that. You will receive what if bequeathed to you in the Will, and _only _that. Now, sit down."

"Draco!" Narcissa glared at her son when he opened his mouth once more. "Do as he says!" The rebuke was clear in her tone.

Draco looked at her startled, shocked at her tone. "Why should I?" He snapped.

"Because if you don't, you lose any and all inheritances you may have gained." Goldbag said slowly.

Draco scowled, clearly furious, but held his tongue and followed his mother. Then his eyes fell on the two figures sat to one side.

Harry and Hermione had arrived early, to bring in the various contracts and documents that had been finalised only last night. Both had looked up as the three figures stepped through the doorway, Harry's eyes narrowing as he saw who they were, while Hermione scowled… a scowl that Draco returned when he realised they were there.

"Potter! Come to see me claim what is rightfully mine back from that mangy blood traitor?" His eyes moved to Hermione, a leer forming on his face. "Though did you have to bring the mudblood along too? You almost look respectable in those robes Granger. Too bad your blood is so dirty, but at least you make a fine piece of eye candy…"

"Come over here and say that Draco." Hermione snapped, eyes aflame.

Draco sneered. "That tongue is going to get you into trouble mudblood. You had better watch what you say, otherwise someone might just…" He made a reaching motion with his hand, before curling the fingers in and drawing his hand back. "…remove it."

"Just try it Malfoy." Harry said coldly. Draco's eyes jumped to him. Harry had spoken coldly, but surely. That hadn't been a hot-blooded threat, but a promise. It sent a shiver of fear up the young Malfoy's spine.

Behind him, Narcissa shook her head in despair. If ever she needed proof that Draco was just a dumber, brasher version of his father, she had in spades now. There was no redeeming him. Mentally shaking herself, she looked over at Harry… the young man she hoped would be able to set her free. His eyes were hard as he looked back, sending shivers up her spine. She just hoped they could convince him to help.

At her side, Bellatrix was shaking like a leaf. Harry's eyes had filled with rage when they alighted on her. She was the reason they were all here today. Bella was terrified of the young man now… but she was even more terrified that he would not help her. Meeting his eyes for a moment, she said nothing, but cast her eyes downward and bowed her head, a sure sign of submission.

Harry frowned at her actions. This was not the Bellatrix he'd fought only a couple of weeks ago. She walked differently, hunched over and inward. And her eyes… she'd been looking at him, but the expression was… strange. He hoped Hermione would be able to shed some light on the subject. Still, the image of his godfather falling backwards into the Veil played over in his mind, and he clenched a fist in an attempt to control his urge to physically cave in her skull…

Hermione's hand wrapped around his free one. Breathing deeply, Harry slowly relaxed. He turned to thank her… but before he could speak another person stepped through the door.

"Oh no… here we go…" He muttered as Dumbledore swept across the floor towards Goldbag.

"Before we start, I have to submit the following updated Will of Sirius Black, along with…"

"That is impossible Dumbledore." Goldbag made no effort to take the parchment that Dumbledore was holding out. "A new Will can only be submitted by the writer of the Will in question, or a witness to a previous version with a signed form from the writer themselves. You are neither."

Dumbledore's face took on a sorrowful expression. "Sirius wrote this only couple of weeks before his untimely demise. I witnessed it myself. Sadly, due to his legal circumstances, it was impossible to get this to Gringotts before now. It has been a very trying few weeks."

Goldbag however remain impassive. "Be that as it may, you are still not Sirius Black, nor a Witness of the Will on file with Gringotts. That… parchment you hold is of no more importance than toilet paper."

Dumbledore adopted a sorrowful look. "Would you really ignore the last wishes of Sirius?"

"I already have his last wishes." Goldbag lifted the scroll on his desk, the Gringotts seal clear. "Right here."

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well, be it on your head it may." He returned the scroll he held to one pocket, before withdrawing two folded sheets of parchment. "I also have to regretfully report that both Mister Potter and Miss Granger will not be able to attend, and have authorised me to act as their proxies in this matter." He extended the parchments to Goldbag.

Goldbag turned to regard Harry and Hermione. "Mister Potter, Miss Granger, did you do this?" He asked lightly. Harry had to hide his smirk when Dumbledore spun around to look at them, jaw hanging open.

"I assure you Account Master Goldbag, neither I nor Miss Granger agreed to anything of the sort."

Goldbag turned back to look at Dumbledore. "Take a seat, and remove those offensive fabrications from my sight."

Dumbledore however was not even paying attention to him, as he stepped towards Harry and Hermione. "Harry… what are you doing here?"

Harry frowned. "You really have to ask that question Headmaster?"

"Harry… It's not safe for you to wander about like this. Come… let me act as your proxy while you go home. You need time to grieve, to reflect. Doing this now is just going to hurt you even more."

"No."

Dumbledore jerked backwards slightly. "Pardon, my boy?"

"I said no, Headmaster." Harry told firmly. "I intend to sit here and listen to the Will of my Godfather. A Godfather I never got the chance to really know thanks to you. Perhaps you are developing a hearing problem?"

"Harry… you have to return home. Your family is very worried about you…"

"If you are referring to the Dursleys, I assure _you_ headmaster that you are gravely mistaken if you think they are worried about me! Hell, if they heard I'd gone under a bus, I think they'd have a celebration!"

Dumbledore was looking pale under his beard. "Are you really that callous, Harry? The wards will start to fail soon if you stay away for too long, only you returning will bring them back to full strength…"

"Why should I care?" Harry snapped back, finished with playing nice. "After all the _care _they've shown me?" The sarcasm was clear in his words.

Hermione turned her head to speak to Harry, deliberately talking loud enough so that the Headmaster could hear her. "We have to ensure that he gets a copy of the report when we take them to the police Harry."

"He won't take any notice." Harry replied bitterly. "Even if he saw it happen in front of him, he'd still refuse to believe that they treat me like that…"

Dumbledore backed away unsteadily, his thoughts in a mess. Had Harry fallen so far, to the darkness as to believe that he was that blind? That he would allow someone to be tortured before him with no reaction on his part? And what of Miss Granger? If she thought that the muggle Aurors were needed…

Could it be he was, Merlin forbid it, wrong?

* * *

Almost an hour later Goldbag looked over the assembled witches and wizards. It was just before ten, and nearly everyone was here... with the exception of the eldest and youngest Weasley's. He glanced towards the clock on the wall: they had less than a minute...

At that moment the blustering, overbearing figure of Molly Weasley came dashing in, dragging her youngest son Ronald by the hand. Just behind the two were Arthur and Ginerva Weasley. The four stood for a moment, getting their breath back, while behind them the guards closed the doors. On his parchment Goldbag ticked off the last names on the list.

"Harry, dear!" Molly's loud voice filled the room when she finally spied Harry sat to one side. Her smile faded however when she saw that Hermione was sat beside him.

"Hello Mrs Weasley." Harry's reply was cool, distant.

Molly looked affronted, but before she could say anything Ron noticed them.

"Mom look, it's 'arry an Hermi!" All eyes focused on the young man, who was wavering on his feet. Behind him Ginny flushed red and hid her face in her fathers chest.

"Be seated, everyone." Goldbag spoke sternly. Molly pulled Ron back with to the nearest empty seats to Harry... though they were still half way across the room. Arthur and Ginny settled down behind them.

"Very well. Now that we are all here..."

"A moment." Dumbledore stood up, interrupting Goldbag. "I, in the best interests of those gathered, have to ask who they are, and why they are here?" He gestured towards the wall behind Harry, where Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass sat in a bench seat… while almost directly him a figure stood, wrapped in a hooded robe that complete hid any trace of the person underneath.

Hermione looked enquiringly to Goldbag, who nodded to her. "Those are our friends, Headmaster, as you know well. They are here partly because they asked to be here, but also at the primary beneficiaries' invitation."

"Hah! That a joke Mudblood?" Draco sneered. Goldbag noted that the elder Grangers both looked darkly at the... young man. "Why would I wish to mix with such traitors?" He now glared imperiously at Goldbag. "Get on with it Goblin, and hand me the keys and rights to the Black name. The smell of Blood Traitors, Mudbloods and other filth is getting to me."

From the expressions around the room, it was clear that only the presence of the Goblin Guards kept young Malfoy from being torn to shreds. Then Goldbag saw the expression on the nearest guards face. If Draco had been attacked, they wouldn't have stopped it. And might have added a few blows themselves.

Still, there was business to attend to. "I will now read the Will." He stated firmly, unsealing the scroll.

The next few minutes passed quickly; the format for wills was very well established. He noted that most of the youngsters looked bored with the legal details, though Miss Granger was paying attention.

"Section three: bequeathments." Everyone sat up straighter, and young Malfoy's face split into a self-satisfied smirk.

"To the Weasley twins, Fred and George, I leave nine thousand galleons." Jaws dropped, none more so than the twins. Molly Weasley began to open her mouth – likely to yell in outrage, given her expression – so Goldbag pressed on. "Neither of your parents can touch this money, no matter what they say. The first three is for supporting yourselves and your future families. The rest is for investment in your joke shop. Keep the dream alive boys. In the spirit of which, I also leave all my journals and notes from my years as a Marauder. You should get a kick out of them."

From the expressions on their faces, it appeared the twins were on the verge of getting down on their knees and bowing to the static painting of Sirius that was hung just to the right of Goldbag.

"To Minerva McGonagall, I leave both apologies for all the hair we made turn grey during our years at Hogwarts…" a light blush appeared on the stern Professors cheeks. "…And some funds for Hogwarts use. I know that you yourself have no need of more money, so to you personally I leave the two cases of finest Scotch Whiskey I discovered in my families wine cellar. I've already checked it all for poisons and the like.

"The money I leave is to redress an imbalance. I heard that Malfoy bought a whole set of brooms for his old houses team. 2001's if I heard correctly. Not an ideal choice, but then Lucius has never been one for making the right choice."

"How dare that…" Draco snarled.

"SILENCE!" Goldbag snapped, glaring at the young... person. "Either contain yourself or leave now."

Draco glared back, but kept quiet. Harry noted however that his hand dropped to his right boot for a moment before lifting up again as Goldbag resumed reading the will.

"Therefore, I leave a set of thirty Nimbus 2000's, to be shared equally between Gryiffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. The extra's as spares. I also leave thirty Cleansweep Trainers for the broom riding classes. Those old broken things you're still using should have been kindling when I first started. Merlin knows what they're like now."

Harry and Hermione shared a glance, remembering their first broom lesson.

"To Arthur Weasley, I bequeath a sum of five thousand galleons, for your own use alone. Do whatever you wish with it; renovate your home, take early retirement, or buy up vast amounts of non-magical items, your choice. I would, however, advise you to purchase some books explaining how non-magical things work, rather than poking about yourself. I had Lily to explain things, and what _not _to do. You don't want to have something happen Arthur. Magic may be good, but there are limits to what we can fix."

Arthur had looked bewildered for a moment, but then he gained a look of understanding as Goldbag continued. "To Molly Weasley, I had originally planned to leave you a similar amount as your husband, for opening your home to Harry. But… then I learned of your motives. I saw how you acted. I know now that you acted not out of the kindness of your heart, but from pure greed."

Molly was on her feet in an instant, her face red with rage. "Now see here…"

"SILENCE!" Goldbag roared, eyes glaring like spears at her. Molly froze, stunned into silence. "Molly Weasley, you are already in trouble with Gringotts; one more outburst and you be removed from this building!" Almost as pale as Malfoy, Molly slowly sank back into her seat. Harry noticed that Arthur was watching his wife with an unreadable expression. After glaring at her for a few moments more, Goldbag refocused on the Will.

"…From pure greed. Mark my words Mrs Weasley; you have no right to dictate the lives of others. You can't make other people's choices for them, including your children. Love can not be directed nor controlled." Arthur was now scowling at Molly, while others were looking at in surprise and suspicion. "I don't care how you live your life, but in trying to control my godson, you've made an enemy of the House of Black. I hope you are satisfied with what you have done. I suspect that Harry's choice of wife will leave a bitter taste in your mouth, and I can't think of a more suitable punishment.

"Remus Lupin, my dear friend… by now you should have already put into play the plans and thoughts I left you in the pre-hearing." Dumbledore sat upright sharply, eyes wide. "Just to let everyone know, I'm leaving you the deed for my old house – no, not my parents one, the flat I living in after Hogwarts - twenty-five thousand galleons, and a few thoughts. It's all up to you to teach a new generation of Marauders now. Let Harry learn of his heritage, and pass on what we learned and know. And remember what I told you before; you are _not _a monster. Look after our pup Moony.

"To Andromeda Tonks and her daughter Nymphadora…" Tonks muttered something before her mother lightly slapped the back of her hand. "…I leave ten thousand for Andi personally, another five as a belated Dowry for your husband Ted, and fifteen thousand for Nymphadora. I also offer the following: Reinstatement into the House of Black for you Andi, and welcome into the same for your husband and daughter. I can only guess how much being cast out hurt you Andi, but I guess it runs deep. While I could not go through with it myself, my heir has the right and means once he takes up the mantle. Speak with him later. I also ask you look out for him in the years to come: he'll need every help he can get."

Draco chuckled. "Oh, like I need the help of a Blood Traitor!" Goldbag didn't say anything, just gritted his teeth and continued. That little prick was really starting to try his patience…

"Bellatrix Lestrange, I find myself in a dilemma regarding you. The… person that they brought into Azkaban bears no resemblance to the young woman I used to know. You changed Bella, turned dark and twisted. I don't know exactly what caused it, but it was after your marriage. Knowing your husband and our Family, I fear the worse. And, despite your actions and words of the last two decades, you are still family. Again, my own legal situation prevents me from acting, but my heir has every right now to not only cast you out of the Family, but also dissolve your marriage to LeStrange. He should have read the contract more carefully my dear. I can only hope that somewhere within you that bright young girl remains, and so I have set up a fund for you at St Mungos, to pay for any mental treatments you require after an in-depth examination. I know it's unlikely that anyone would willing enter your mind, but I hope there is."

Across the room Bellatrix was holding her sisters hand tightly. Worry and fear coiled in her gut at Sirius's words, though she understood where he was coming from. Softening all that however was his unexpected generosity; he had no reason to leave her anything but curses. While it was still possible that she would end up out on the streets, with no name, no money or anything, she felt a little better in herself. Almost against her will she looked over to where Harry was sat with Miss Granger beside him. Both were looking at her with hostile expressions, but there was something in Harry's eyes, curiosity perhaps? She only prayed that he would be willing to hear her and Cissa out before casting them aside.

"Narcissa Malfoy, again I am unsure as to what to leave you. I know what being married to that bastard Lucius was doing to you, but you understand my problem. While I agree it was a terrible thing, I have not heard of you doing much to curb his excesses. In fact, you've appeared to have settled for being a Trophy Wife, something that I find very odd, as you were quite independent in your youth. Nevertheless, I leave you the same that I left Bella; my heir has the right and power to dissolve your marriage to him, or to cast you out of the Family. Or both. What he does depends on you now. It's past time to take a stand 'Cissa. You have to make a choice. There is no more time to weigh the sides.

"Which nicely leads me to one Draco Malfoy. By now you are thinking why would you dissolve your parents and aunts' marriages, allow your other aunt back into the family, and all the other things I've mentioned my heir can do. Well, let me explain the fundamental flaw in your thinking: you assume that you are my heir, and will now become the next Lord Black.

"You are wrong."

Draco, red with rage, shot up from his seat. "WHAT!" he bellowed. "I AM the next heir by blood! In fact I am the _only _heir to the Black family!"

Goldbag looked at him over the Will, then began to read again. "Yes, you are the heir by direct bloodlines, but like all Families, an Heir can be passed over in lieu of other. And make no mistake; you are not the only young man with Black blood in your veins.

"What you receive from me however is nothing but my utter contempt. You are a foul, loathsome, evil, petty little thing, a pale copy of your father. You are not welcomed into the House of Black, your line cast out forever!" Goldbag now lowered the Will to stare at the still standing young man. "I suggest you sit down Mister Malfoy, otherwise I will have no choice but to order you escorted from the Bank." There was a note of finality in the goblins tone; one that made sure everyone knew that he was not threatening idly, but stating a fact.

Once Draco, pale once more, had sat down, Goldbag pressed on, using the Will to hide the small smirk that wormed its way onto his face. That had felt good, cutting the little snot down to size!

"Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore, I leave you… two Knuts. You're handling of events over the last half a century has gone from bad to worse, going even further in the last five. I have no trust or respect for you anymore. I may have been naïve when I was young, but after twelve years in Azkaban with nothing to do but think and remember, I see things clearly now. I know that, in your mind, you are doing everything you are doing because you have to, but that is not true. When was the last time you turned to someone for advice? When did you last seek help? Is there another way? You cling to your secrets Headmaster, and before long I suspect they will be the death of you. I once came across an interesting piece of muggle thinking, encapsulated in the following: 'Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely'. You've been fighting the darkness for over fifty years now, fighting the monsters in our world. But it's long past time to let others take the lead, step back and follow others. You can't be in control all the time. Let go, and allow others the freedom to live and chose their own fate."

Dumbledore sat back, swallowing nervously. Sirius's words struck him deeply, but he tried to brush them off. However, deep within his mind that tiny voice screamed that he should listen and consider in depth what Sirius was trying to tell him.

"To Ginny Weasley, youngest of the Weasley kids, I chose to leave a small trust fund, in thanks to your actions at my place this last summer. While I disagree with your chosen form of humour, you helped keep things light in a place that is steeped in darkness and despair. Thusly, I leave you five thousand galleons in a trust fund for your future educational needs. No child should have wear third hand – or worse – robes to school, nor use fourth hand books. I also leave some advice: you can't control the future. What I said earlier to your mother also applies to you. Nobody has the right to impose his or her views on others. Yes, Harry is a great young wizard, but the 'Boy-Who-Lived' is a fabrication. Let go of the dream Ginny, it's time to grow up and face reality. Accept whatever he offers, but don't try and force things. You'll just drive him away."

Ginny closed her teary eyes, thinking back to her time with Sirius. It hadn't been much, but the older, dashing man had made an impression. "I will." She half whispered.

"Ronald Weasley… I find myself wondering just what Harry sees in you. You are emotionally immature, greedy and lazy. You have no drive to improve yourself, only fobbing off others, often Harry and Hermione. I can tell that you've only got as far as you have in your education thanks to Hermione; I witnessed you several times badgering her to do your homework for you while you goofed off. You can't continue to do this Ronald. Sooner or later you are going to have to face a situation by yourself, with no one else to lean on. When that happens, you are likely to need to know what those professors have been trying to teach you, but you won't because you didn't do the work. Then you'll be in real trouble. I know this, because I too was inclined more to goof off then study. But early on at Hogwarts I got my wake up call, when I got hit with a jink that had been pulled straight from the required reading I hadn't done. Laughter and games have their place, but you have to learn to stand on your own.

"But, despite all that – and your other, numerous flaws – you were for a time what Harry needed most I suspect: a friend. Thusly, I feel that you should be rewarded for that alone. So I have set up a trust fund just like your sisters, for three thousand galleons. Don't squander it Ron, this money to help your education, to make something of your life. Look at your brothers and father. They all got where they are now through hard work and effort. It's time to knuckle down and get to work yourself."

Harry was watching Ron's reactions throughout. What he saw was… troubling. Ron's eyes were almost glazed over, and at one point his tongue lolled out to hang limply. He didn't even seem to get upset or angry at Sirius's words, something that frankly had Harry very concerned. He leaned towards Hermione. "Something's wrong with Ron."

Hermione's glance back was filled with coldness. "Oh really?" Sarcasm tinged her words; she was still feeling betrayed by the prat.

"I mean there's something else going on here." Harry continued, realising that Hermione was not in a forgiving mood for their former friend. "He didn't react at all to what Sirius wrote. He was just told he was a lazy git, and didn't bat an eye. Even the fact that his little sister is getting more money than him went past unmarked. Have you ever seen Ron act like this?"

Hermione now eyed the redhead, her cold frown fading into one of concern. "Hmmm… you have a point Harry. Ever since the Battle, he's been acting even more… slow." A clearing of a throat made them both look back towards Goldbag.

"To Hermione Jane Granger, my Godson's best and truest friend, I leave the contents of the Black Library." Harry felt Hermione's fingers clamp around his wrist as she gasped. A quick glance showed that her eyes were sparkling as Goldbag continued to speak. "While many of the books contained within are about Dark Magic, I am confident that you can resist temptation and use the knowledge within wisely. To fight the Darkness effectively, one must understand it. I trust you to use this knowledge wisely."

Dumbledore stood up once more. "Sadly, I have to use my position in the Wizengamot to confiscate those books. Such knowledge is banned my dear, and should not be spread about mindlessly."

Hermione was now glaring at the Headmaster, but before she could speak Goldbag interrupted.

"If Headmaster Dumbledore attempts to have the books taken, then he needs to be reminded that this is a decree from a Will, not an open air auction. Does he not trust Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, to know how to use such knowledge? Or is he playing his usual game of denying vital information to those who need that information? In any case, his authority in regards to the Ministry does not apply in this case, so sit down!" Goldbag was now glaring at the Headmaster, having almost yelled the last words.

Dumbledore remained standing however. "This is not a trivial matter. The knowledge contained those books cannot be allowed to be spread. Also many may have been cursed. Surely it is wise to bring them to the Ministry for examination, in case any have been so cursed? It would be most unfortunate if Miss Granger, our star student, were to become twisted into a new Dark Lady by such a curse…"

"The contents of the Black Library have already been examined, and any curses removed, by Gringotts employees." Goldbag stated firmly. "This action was part of Sirius Black's arrangement with Gringotts, and the fee for such has already been settled. I trust there is no doubt that our employee's are sufficiently qualified to deal with such items?"

Dumbledore's expression was as if he'd had a whole lemon shoved into his mouth as he sat down, clearly beaten. After a few more moments of glaring, Goldbag returned to the Will.

"In addition to the books, I also leave a sum of one hundred thousand Galleons for Miss Grangers personal use. I would also give you Harry, but I can't quite swing that." Hermione flushed red as she glanced at Harry who was just as red. Chuckles rose from others in the room at the clearly embarrassed teens. Harry noted however, that at last Ron reacted, looking across at Hermione with pure greed in his eyes. That set alarm bells ringing in his head.

"Finally, to my godson Harry James Potter. You get everything left. Which is actually the lion's share of the value of the Black Family. It's a huge amount of gold, valuable artefacts and holdings in various companies. I also reveal that I have designated you as my heir, the Scion of the Black Family. For those who think I can't, I direct your attention to the Black Family tree. Dorea Black, my great-aunt on my _dear _mothers side, married Charlus Potter, Harry's grandfather. Thus he has a blood link into the family, and is eligible to become the next Lord Black. Pup, I wish I could use this to emancipate you now, but as with all things, you'll have to wait until you turn sixteen to receive the benefits…" Goldbag stopped, eye twitching, as Dumbledore once again stood up. Harry rolled his eyes; doesn't he _ever _learn?

"As Harry's magical Guardian, I have the sad duty to report that Harry is not ready to receive such a burden. He needs more time to mature and grow. And, let us be honest here, he is still a child. He should have the chance to enjoy his childhood. Such things as what Sirius is handing him, you must be mature and settled before receiving."

Goldbag laid the will down slowly before looking at him. "Believe what you want Dumbledore, but your words have no meaning here."

"Pardon?" Dumbledore's voice was filled with confusion, and not a small amount of frustration.

"It is quite simple. You, Dumbledore, are not Mister Potter-Black's Magical Guardian."

That statement rocked the old wizard back on his heals. "You are mistaken." He told the Goblin firmly. "It is well documented that Harry is an orphan. He has no other magical relatives. In cases such as his, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, I am his appointed Magical Guardian, per _in loco parentis_."

"You may be the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but in _this_ case it is you who are mistaken, Dumbledore." Goldbag snapped, the frustration clear on his features. "Another is Mister Potter's guardian, one with a clear, undisputable claim that has been verified by Gringotts."

"Then who is it?" Molly all but screamed.

Movement behind Harry drew everyone's attention; the hooded and cloaked figure was stepping forwards. They had been so quiet and still during the whole Will reading that nearly everyone had forgotten about their presence. Halting beside Harry, an elegant, feminine hand lifted up to the cowl of the hood. The woman gave her head a little shake as the hood fell away, allowing her long, rich, deep red hair to cascade over her shoulders. Two brilliant emerald eyes looked out from a classically beautiful face at the range of shocked and stunned expressions. While a smile was on her lips, in her eyes everyone could see the burning green fire that flared up when they landed on them.

"That would be me." She said firmly.

For several long moments no one spoke. Finally, McGonagall was able to get one word past her lips.

"Lily?"


	26. Return From Death

**A/N:** Hey everyone. I'm very pleased to see the reveal at the end of last chapter got the response I was hoping for! Now, I shouldn't really be doing this, but I'm giving you this chapter which explains Lily's return now, rather than make you wait. The third and final part of the 'Will' Chapters will be in two weeks, then we're back to the regular Tri-week posting.

Two things from the masses of reviews I got for last chapter (which really does help! Thank you one and all! :D) I would like to address: An evil author would have Hermione as Draco's play thing by now.

In regard to the Cliffhangers... I will try to avoid them in the future. But I make no promises. If the chapter naturally ends at such a point...

* * *

Almost everyone continued to stare at her, mouths hanging open in shock. How was it possible that Lily Potter was standing alive before them? She died to save Harry! There was a memorial at Godric's Hollow to her and James! Everyone _knew _that they had both died that night!

Dumbledore's mind raced, trying to understand what his eyes were seeing. Every method of cheating death or returning someone to life was Dark Magic. There was no way that Lily Potter could be standing before him, alive and unharmed. It had to be some sort of deception... the other options were just too dark to contemplate.

McGonagall worked her jaw again. "Is it really you Lily?" She half whispered.

Lily's eyes came to rest on her old teacher, and her smile widened and gained warmth. "It is Minerva. I am alive."

"But… how?" McGonagall asked the question in everyone's mind.

Slowly Lily looked about the room, her eyes running over everyone. Molly Weasley shivered when her eyes met Lily's. The green warmth went ice cold in an instant, and Molly knew then that Lily Potter was everything she had hoped and aspired to be… and far, far out of her league. As those emerald eyes moved on after a moment, only one phrase ran through her head. _'Oh shit!'_

Lily's eyes dropped to her son, who was looking up at her happily. Grinning herself, Lily ran her fingers through his hair lovingly.

"It was a near thing, let me tell you. Rumours of my death were not exaggerated by much…" She trailed off as she thought back to the events of earlier in the week…

* * *

_**Monday 15**__**th**__**, Potter Manor**_

Harry followed Victor through the doors he had just opened, the others following him. The room within was dominated by the ceiling. From a point above them it sloped down to a low wall on the other side of the room. But what drew the eye and held it was the simple fact that it was almost entirely glass, and the view beyond. They looked out along the roof of the Great Hall below, with some of the grounds and one of the other manors further on, and the depths of the great Monks Wood beyond. It was a magnificent view…

"Oh my god!"

Emma's words caused them all to turn towards the rest of the room. Distantly, fleetingly, Harry noted how the room was the width of the top floor, how the far wall was made up of wardrobes and cupboards, the second door on the far side, and how the massive four-poster bed had short, thin walls each side to give those in it some privacy.

But all that didn't register with him… once he saw the figure that lay still on the bed.

Almost in a daze he half stumbled forward, eyes locked on the body. Drawing back the thin gossamer drape between them, he was vaguely aware of falling to his knees at the bedside, staring unblinkingly at her.

The person lying on the bed was undoubtedly a woman. She had a sleek but full, classically beautiful figure, not skeleton thin like the current trend of models. Her clothing was simple, casual. Fine-fingered hands were interlaced over her stomach. The face was soft and feminine, slightly elfin which would give her decades of beauty.

It was a face that Harry had seen many times… in his dreams, in the Mirror of Erised, and in the Graveyard. The halo of rich, dark red hair that fell off the pillow to pool about her shoulders was just extra proof as to her identity. Behind those closed lids, he knew that her eyes would be sparkling emeralds.

The same eyes that looked back at him every morning from the mirror.

"Is that…?"

"Lily." Remus answered Daphne's softly spoken question, a tremor in his voice. Raw emotions pounded through him, robbing him of strength.

Hermione's gaze hardened as she slowly turned to face Victor and Emily. "What is this?" She asked in a hard tone. The latent threat in her voice was clear.

"In the aftermath of… that night, we had to fight the Ministry over… the bodies." Victor began to explain. "The Ministry was set on a public funeral at Godric's Hallow. They planned to make a massive media circus out of it, to 'allow the nation to honour the fallen who gave their lives for their son who stopped the Dark Lord'." The expression he made as he rolled his eyes showed what he thought of _that _idea.

"It was as we were about to take them to the burial ground when Racknor told us to bring them before him." Victor sighed. "He confirmed that James was dead, but Lily…"

"_The body of Lily Potter still lived, as she does to this day." _Everyone looked to the bedside, where from a squat cylinder of rock the dragon ghost's image appeared once more in miniature. Hermione noticed that the upper surface had the same design etched into it as the massive slab down in the hall. Racknor continued to speak.

"_Her soul has been torn from her body, but there is still a fragment left behind. That small shred has kept her bodily functions going, albeit at a much-reduced rate. In many respects, Lily's body has been almost petrified; in the nearly fifteen years since her 'death', her body has aged only three._

"_When I looked closer, I discovered that there is still a thread connecting her body and soul. I believe that, if we can bring her soul back to her body, Lily will awaken, and live once more. Alas, for the past fifteen years I have been unable to pinpoint where her soul resides. I only had a direction. But in the last five years the connection would swing to head north for most of the year. From that we worked out where her soul resides."_

Hermione, jaw hanging, stared at the ghost. Then she slowly followed his gaze to… Harry.

Harry slowly looked up, to see everyone staring at him. He looked at the ghost dragon in shock. "Me?"

Racknor slowly nodded. _"Yes Harry. I'm sorry, but I have to ask: how much of that night do you remember?"_

Harry shivered, his expression darkening. "Not much. Mum pleading for my life, offering herself in my place… him telling her to step aside… two flashes of green…" Both Susan and Daphne gasped before kneeling down next to him, wrapping their arms around his shoulders.

Hermione was continuing to stare at Racknor, who looked back, unaffected by the withering glare she was putting out. _"I see the burning questions in you miss. All I have are theories._

"_It has long been rumoured that Voldemort used many dark rituals on himself. Including those intended to help him cheat death. Today, when I examined Master Harry, I found proof. Behind and within your scar Harry, I found trace remains – an echo, if you like – of a piece of a horribly dark soul. One whose taste I recognise."_

"Voldemort." Harry said softly, resigned. "It makes sense. How I sensed when he was near, saw what he saw. I had a bit of him in my head."

"God…" Hermione breathed, shocked to her core. Then a thought came to her. "The diary! Harry… that must have been the same thing!" At Racknor's look, she quickly told him about the diary of Tom Riddle.

The Dragon nodded slowly. _"Yes… the same and yet not. The item is known as a Horcrux, and it is one of the foulest, darkest, most terrible magics ever created. Though not quite accurate, the essence of a horcrux is that a magical person tears their soul, and attaches one piece to the object. The torn part is not completely separate, however. Think of a tree limb, branching out, with the end of each branch attached to an object while the 'trunk' remains in the original body."_

"That's horrible." Emma Granger shuddered.

"_Think so? It gets better. The process to create a horcrux – in particular, tearing the soul – is a murder-based ritual. But not just any murder. It has to be a murder of an 'Innocent soul'."_

Nathan looked puzzled. "What does that mean?"

Tonks was almost white. "You don't mean… a child?"

Racknor just nodded.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Emma muttered.

"Door on the other side, en-suite." Emily Van Dort supplied, looking a little green herself.

"_We may never know exactly what happened that night." _Racknor spoke once more, softly. _"But from what we do know I can guess the following; Voldemort arrived, and right off was engaged by James. After killing him, he came after you. Lily put herself between the two of you. For some reason he did not wish to kill her, but grew tired of her pleas and cast the Killing Curse. Then he turned his wand on you._

"_I suspect Lily had looked up a number of protection rituals, including self-sacrifice powered ones. When he cast his curse on you that came into play. By that point he must have already made several Horcrux's, since his body was torn apart by the magical backlash._

"_This is pure conjecture, but it seems that Voldemort's soul attempted to take possession of you… and in the process drew Lily's sundered soul in with it. His spirit then fled, but left a fragment of itself behind. I sensed a barrier between yourself and the echo of that fragment, a barrier which I recognised the nature of. Lily has been protecting you from it ever since that night. There are signs that over the last few years the fragment partially overpowered her and has affected you in some ways, but she has had a far greater impact."_

Daphne gasped then smiled. That explained why Harry had turned out so nice despite the horrid environment he'd been raised in. His mother had been with him, in spirit if not flesh. The dragon watched them, keeping quiet. While what he said had been the truth, it was not the whole truth. There had been… other factors in play that night. But it was not worth mentioning them. It would just cause unnecessary heartache.

Hermione had tears in her eyes, but remained focused on Racknor. "So… You said that we could reunite Mrs Potter's soul and body. How?"

Racknor shifted about on his pedestal. _"Lily's condition is similar to having been kissed by a Dementor. We just need to give her soul both the means and a reason to return to her body."_

"How?" The longing and hope in Harry's question was immense.

"_Ideally, the air around her will be charged with positive emotions…"_

"The Patronus Charm?" Hermione asked.

"_Yes, that would be perfect. But so few can cast that spell…"_

Grinning from the fact she could help, Hermione drew her wand. Then paused. "Oh… I forgot. The Trace…"

"Is a myth." Everyone turned to look at Tonks, who had an expression of regret. "It's a lie. The Ministry can only monitor locations for magic use, not individual wands." She shifted on her feet, clearly uncomfortable revealing this secret. "Magical homes are not monitored, since any magic done at them is assumed to be done by an adult."

Hermione was looking thunderstruck. "So the whole time we were at… at… that old place, we could have been using magic to clean it?" At Tonk's nod, her expression darkened. "So Malfoy can do any magic he likes at home and never be caught, but if I or Harry did anything…"

Tonks nodded unhappily again.

"_Am I to take it then, that you can cast the Patronus Charm, Miss Granger?"_ Racknor cut in before Hermione could start off on a rant. Drawing a deep breath, Hermione closed her eyes and thought about how she'd felt over the last few days, with Harry…

"Expecto Patronum!"

With a swirl of light her otter leapt forth and bounded across the room in an excited manner. It reached the far end of the bed before hoping up onto it. Every eye watched, spell bound, as the silvery creature waddled over to the still form of Lily, before nuzzling her ankle.

Motion out of the corner of his eye drew Harry's attention, and he turned his head to see his mother's chest falling as she breathed out. Not by much, but it was motion. Excited, he clawed for his wand.

"_No Harry. You have another role to play."_ Racknor looked at the other two. _"What about you two?"_

Susan just pulled her wand as an answer, though her expression was nervous, but Daphne's shoulders slumped. "Sorry…"

Harry turned and faced her, a hand going to her shoulder. "You can do it Daphne. We have the man who taught me here." He looked towards Remus. Daphne looked at him, and then nodded. Taking a deep breath she stood up and back, drawing her wand as she did.

Remus stepped forwards, his voice dropping into Professor mode. "Now, the Patronus Charm is a manifestation of a positive emotion, a very powerful emotion. A memory often works to focus the emotion, but it has to be a strong one, something important. Something like your first broom ride won't cut it." He shared a look with Harry, who flushed slightly, remembering his first attempt at casting the charm.

Daphne nodded, closing her eyes. What did she think of that made her happy? Her thoughts went to yesterday, when Harry had made his offer…

Her eyes snapped open, and her wand rose. "Expecto Patronum!"

A plume of mist erupted from her wand, more like the exhaust from an engine than the spreading cloud that the others had first managed. Then the far end condensed, twirling and thickening. A shape emerged, long and sinuous. In seconds a nearly four-foot long snake was slithering across the floor, before pausing to raise its head. The motion revealed the zigzag pattern running down the snakes length, and the distinctive, bold '**V**" at the back of the head as it looked about. Tongue flickering, the head turned to regard Daphne, who was slack jawed with amazement.

"Well done, well done indeed!" Remus told her as the Patronus Adder dissipated. "Not even Harry got this right first time."

"To be fair, it was two years ago…" Harry commented wryly.

Daphne swallowed nervously as her eyes continued to gaze at the spot were the Patronus Adder had last been. It had to be a snake, didn't it? Talk about controversial!

Racknor now spoke once more. _"Very good. With at least three solid Patronuses, we have an excellent chance of making this work. To ensure success, all of you, apart from Harry, will have to cast your strongest patronus and hold it for as long as you can. Try to direct them to surround Lily, so that she is bathed in the warmth and good feelings they emanate. Harry…"_ The dragon image shifted, almost nervously.

"What? What do I do?" Harry asked excitedly.

The image of the dragon shifted once again, clearly uncomfortable. _"Harry… what you have to do is going to be… awkward. Disturbing even. The analogy of her having been Kissed by a Dementor is highly accurate. Right now her soul lingers in you. While the others bath her physical body in the warmth and happiness from their patronuses, you have to open a path from yourself to her."_

"Okay… how?" Harry asked, while behind him Hermione stilled, before groaning.

"He means you'll have to kiss her Harry." She said softly. "Not on the cheek or forehead, but a full on, open mouthed kiss."

Harry flushed red, then went so pale that Emma Granger thought he was on the verge of fainting. "What?" He asked in a very, very small voice.

"_She is right Harry. Mouth-to-mouth is the simplest, easiest and most guaranteed method for this to work. If there was another way that had a better than a slim chance…" _Racknor trailed off, before his gaze hardened. _"But you must not focus on the action. Instead you must totally focus on willing her to live, to return to her body so that she can live once more."_

Nathan shivered, but stepped forwards to lay a hand on Harry's shoulder. "If it helps, think of it like you were doing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

Harry nodded jerkily, before squaring his shoulders. "O… Okay. Let's do this, before I loose my nerve."

Quickly the others gathered round, wands at the ready. Hermione's parents stood behind her, one hand on each of her shoulders. Once they were ready, Harry took a few deep breathes, before nodding. "Okay, now."

With a swirl five patronus animals leapt from wand tips, trailing smoke lightly behind them. All five moved to surround Lily's unmoving form, the silvery light they producing bathing her. Watching her face closely, Harry and Amanda saw the mouth open a little more as her body breathed in again. Harry, steeling himself, leaned forwards, until his head was barely an inch above Lily's. "Mum? Please, live again… come back to us…" He whispered before closing his eyes and pressing his lips to hers.

It was far more than awkward, and _very _disturbing. While physically his mother's mouth was a pleasing shape, emotionally he was struggling with the urge to pull away. Setting himself, he willed the urge down and away, focusing solely on allowing his mother to return to her body. He pulled up all he knew of her, all his dreams and hopes and ideas, wanting to know just how true they were.

And then, deep in his mind, _something _shifted. He didn't know what it was, it was half sensed, half imagined, but he could feel something within him moving. Passing out of his mouth and into Lily.

When he felt the last wisps of whatever it was leave him Harry drew back, opening his eyes, half dreading, half hoping. The Patronuses faded away as everyone focused on Lily's body, hardly breathing in anticipation.

She breathed out once more, then a hand twitched. The head moved slightly… and the eyelids flickered. A faint, low sound emerged from within her, and slowly the eyes opened.

Two pairs of emeralds met in a moment that was almost timeless.

Harry felt his heart beat once again. "Mum?" He whispered so faintly it was doubtful anyone actually heard him.

Somehow she must have though, as Lily smiled weakly, her free hand lifting a little. The muscles in her throat worked, and a single word was forced out.

"…'arry"

Smiling with joy, Harry wrapped his arms around his mother's shoulders and pulled her up into a hug, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Even as he hugged her he felt her become stronger, as her hand came over to run through his hair. Slowly she sat up, Harry staying with her the whole way. Those behind him saw her face split into a wide smile. "My baby boy…" She said quietly, soothingly as she petted him a little more.

Hermione sniffled as Emma wrapped her in a hug from behind. Nathan sighed as slipped an arm round his wife. It touched all of them profoundly, to see this shattered and broken family rebuild itself. To the side, Tonks was hugging Remus, all that keeping him standing as he had become almost boneless.

Slowly Lily drew back until she could look Harry in the eye. Smiling she brought her hands up to trace his face, the features so familiar yet different and new at the same time. "My wonderful son. You've grown so much…" A sigh escaped her mouth. "I only wish I could have been with you as you did. But we've together now, we can make up the time." Her eyes darkened slightly however when her fingers brushed over the faded scar on Harry's forehead. "They will pay for what they did to you Harry, over this." Her tone was hard as she reached down and lifted his own hand… the hand that had the scars from Umbridge carved into the back. "If I ever find that foul pink toad Umbitch…" She hissed as her thumb brushed over the words.

Harry was shocked. "How do you know she caused that?"

Lily smiled now, though it was tinged with sadness. "I was aware Harry. I saw it all. I saw everything."

* * *

_**Friday 18**__**th**__**, Gringotts**_

Lily shook off the memories as she looked over the other attendees. While it had been true that she'd seen the world through Harry's eyes, her recall of that time was not perfect. In fact it was downright patchy. Important details and events were clear, but the day-to-day stuff and minor things slipped by.

Not that anyone else needed to know that.

"Needless to say, I'm back. And I am very disappointed… and rather angry at how my son has been treated." Her eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at Albus Dumbledore. "Especially you Albus."

Dumbledore outwardly didn't react, but he felt a shiver of dread run down his spine. Lily had been the sweetest, kindest young woman he had ever met… until she got angry. Then she made dragons look safe to cuddle. Licking suddenly dry lips, he hoped to ease her clear anger. "Lily… " _'If it really is you'_ "…all I have done is for The Greater Good. Surely you understand how badly we needed a hero when Voldemort was finally vanquished. I'm sure you can imagine the reaction of the public to his downfall, and how they would treat their saviour…"

"If you had allowed us to deal with those swine properly, then things would have been much different!" Lily snapped. "And how on this Earth was it for 'The Greater Good' that my son had to suffer _ten years _with my sister's family?"

Dumbledore sighed. "They were the only family he had left. It was for the best that he grew up away from the adulation and fame, the constant attention, which would have followed him around had he been raised in our world. And there were still many of those who followed Voldemort still around, free and unchecked. Understand that he had to disappear, otherwise they would have found and killed him before the year ended."

"Oh, so being abused and treated like shit is better?" Her eyes narrowed even further as thoughts and facts connected in her head: Lily had been one of the brightest to walk the walls of Hogwarts. "You wanted him humble, without self-esteem… malleable. Maybe even look on you kindly for delivering him from that place!"

The exposed skin on his face revealed that Lily's guess had struck true, as Dumbledore's face was draining of all colour. McGonagall, seeing this, gasped in horror and outrage. The last dregs of her support for him were crumbling fast.

"So where would you have him go from here? Mould him some more, turn him, _my son_, into a weapon you would use to destroy Voldemort, the monster that Tom Riddle became? Yes Albus, I know his real name. And I know all about his scar… or rather, what was in it!"

Albus' jaw dropped, before he shot up upright, his mouth opening, But Lily pressed on before he could speak.

"What was the final step? Having him walk out there and allow Riddle to kill him? All to make him vulnerable?" As she saw the stunned expression on his face, Lily's temper erupted. "YOU SICK BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU USE MY SON AS A PAWN IN YOUR SCHEMES! You would destroy the magical world to cover your own bony arse! You allowed Sirius to be locked away without trial, let my son be tormented for his whole life, tried to rob him of his inheritance! AND I KNOW ALL ABOUT HOW YOU ASSUMED GUARDIANSHIP OF MY SON AND BROKERED A MARRIAGE CONTRACT WITH HER!" Lily's hand was pointed right at Molly Weasley.

Ginny yelped and jumped away from her mother, while Arthur appeared to have succumbed to despair, as he now rested his face in one hand, groaning.

Dumbledore spoke softly, trying to placate the enraged redhead. "Lily… please understand. We all thought you were dead. The Will had not been unsealed. Someone had to step in. Marriage contracts are very common, you know this. And the Weasley family is a Light Family. For the good of our World, a union between Harry and Ginerva would help heal the wounds and save us all…"

"BULLSHIT!" Lily exploded. The others watching the show could almost see the flames trailing up her hair, feel the magic that was gathering around her and Harry. Harry himself hadn't said anything, but his eyes said plenty. Both sets of emerald eyes were aflame with green fire, ominously the same shade as that of the dreaded Killing Curse. It was stunning to watch: No-one had _ever _taken Albus Dumbledore to account before. But Lily had over sixteen years to mull over the Headmasters actions, and had not liked what she'd seen and heard one bit.

It was then the second offensive begun, coming from a most unlikely source for most of them: Hermione Granger. "From your words Headmaster, should we take it that having Harry Potter, _The-Boy-Who-Lived_…" Sarcasm fairly dripped off the title. "…marry a Muggleborn is unacceptable?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes, realising that he had no chance to defend himself against the combined assault from these two. "Yes." He answered her in a very small voice. "Such a union would further tear our World apart Miss Granger. Daily our way of life is being eroded by muggle ideas. We need to stop this corruption, before the whole Magical World collapses. Surely you can see that these new, radical ideas are causing chaos? Riddle has used this stress to his advantage, without this influx…"

"The Magical World would die, stagnant!" Hermione yelled. "You can't stop change or growth, and both are linked together intrinsically."

Lily now looked at him sadly. "You've lost touch Albus. The man before me is nothing like the man I once knew. Can't you see the damage you are causing?"

"But I do Lily." Dumbledore said sadly. "I knew Harry would suffer, knew he would have dark days with his aunt, but it was necessary. Should I have allowed him to become a ward of the Ministry? You know as well as I that the instant that happened one of Voldemorts supporters would have used any means to have Harry placed in their care. And once that happened…" Albus trailed off, shaking his head slowly. "I do regret what I've had to do, but there are bigger threats that I had to contend with. Surely you can see that in the end, what I did was for the best?"

Lily's eyebrow rose. "Best for whom, Albus?" He had no counter for that.

"Sirius mentioned that you'd spent your life fighting monsters Headmaster." Daphne now stood up, stepping up to stand just behind Harry and Hermione. Once the aged man's eyes had focused on her, she continued. "His words reminded me of a well known saying, by a muggle philosopher by the name of Nietzsche. _'Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.'_ You claim to regret your actions, yet you hide behind the excuse that it was for the good of everyone. I think you should have a good, long look in the mirror Headmaster. Strip away your reasons, look at your actions alone. Because from where we sit…" She linked her arm through Harry's at these words. "…Your actions are just as bad as Voldemorts."

"Something else to chew on. 'The Road to hell is paved with Good Intentions', Albus." Lily commented lightly. "Another famous muggle saying. But, of course, you've disregarded muggles haven't you?"

Draco, for his part, had been watching all this with a small thread of amusement. Seeing the old fool being torn into like this was pleasurable. However his anger over what the Blood-Traitor Black had done was still there. And what these two had just said had him scoffing. "Muggles… good for nothing but sport. Who cares what they spout out, apart from their dirty blood when you kill them?" He glared at Hermione. "Mudbloods like you really do need to be shown your place… at our feet, begging!"

Lily was glaring right back at him. Her words however stunned everyone. "High King Ragnok… Please have this disgusting excuse of a sack of shit removed from here; otherwise I will kill him where he sits!" The rest all started when she stated the Goblin King's name. He was _here_?

From above Goldbag can a deep, menacing growl**. "Not if my axe removes his head first, Madam Potter."** Eyes darted to the dark shadows, to see a darker form move. **"Guards! Remove Mister Malfoy from this bank AT ONCE!"**

Draco shot to his feet, anger filling his face. "How dare you try to order me around you filthy…" He froze however, when no less than eight swords encircled him, the points of two hovering barely an inch from his eyes. Another tickled his back, while one more was levelled at his crotch. His face paled so fast some of the rooms occupants wondered how he managed to not pass out.

"**THAT IS IT!"** The roar from the ledge filled the room. **"Draco Malfoy, you are barred from Gringott's for LIFE! AS are any offspring from your loins! All your assets here will be confiscated! The Malfoy line will never be accepted into Gringotts EVER AGAIN!"**

Draco was frozen in panic, thoughts of how his father and the Dark Lord would react after hearing about this filling his mind. The thumping of heavy feet resounded throughout the chamber, before the door behind them opened… to reveal an armoured troll walking in. Draco emitted a half shriek as the ten foot tall creature approached him. "Get that thing away from me!" He cried as it loomed over him. No one however moved as the troll reached down and grasped him between both hands before lifting him up kicking and screaming. Suddenly he froze, before moaning pitifully. The front of his trousers darkened, just before a trickle of yellow liquid ran out from one leg.

"**Disgusting."** Ragnok's voice boomed out. **"Get that sorry excuse for a… person, **_**OUT OF MY SIGHT!"**_ The troll nodded before stomping back out the door, Draco wailing as he was spun around.

With tears running down her cheeks Narcissa slowly rose to her feet. Her last hope was to speak with Mister Potter, and with the High King's declaration…

"**Mrs Malfoy… you are not at fault for your son's behaviour. You may retake your seat."** Ragnok spoke a little more softly. Stunned, Narcissa slowly sank back into her chair.

Dumbledore looked taken aback. "Surely that was too harsh High King? Young mister Malfoy is but a child…"

Harry snorted. "You still think you can stop him becoming like his father Headmaster? Forget it. Malfoy's determined to follow his father's footsteps."

Dumbledore turned to face Harry again. "Harry, my boy… we have to forgive moments of weakness and madness in others. Everyone can be redeemed…"

Now it was Hermione's turn to snort. "Redeem? Headmaster, I have to respectfully disagree. NOT everyone can be redeemed. Draco's had hundreds of chances to show remorse for his actions. But he's never shown any. How many chances are you going to give him before you _finally_ bring him to heal and punish him for his actions and words? When he kills someone?"

"He'd still try and redeem him, even if he murdered all the non-Slytherin students in their sleep." Harry commented.

Lily's eyes were fixed on Albus. "Oh he would. After all, that's what Snape is! A multiple murderer! And Albus has the _audacity _to have him teaching at Hogwarts!"

Albus's eyes jumped to her. "How do you know about Severus?"

Lily ruffled Harry's hair once more. "I've spent the last fourteen years riding around in my sons head Albus. I saw, with his eyes, what Snape has become." Albus looked stunned, but she pressed on. "Be assured if that _person_ EVER comes near me or my son, I _will _tear him limb from limb for what he has done to me, my son and my family!"

Albus was looking heartbroken. "Lily… how can you be so harsh? Severus plays a vital role, and atones each day for his youthful mistakes…"

"Oh really?" Daphne spoke up once more. "So overseeing the rape of many of his house – and sometimes joining in – is part of his Atonement?"

Albus paled as several gasps arose form around them. "Severus has my complete trust Miss Greengrass. And that is a serious allegation. He would never…"

"Oh he has!" Daphne exploded. She turned to look up at the Goblin King. "With your permission, I shall swear an oath to prove my statement, High King."

Albus jumped in before Ragnok could speak. "Now, let's not do anything rash…"

"Quite, Headmaster." Susan now spoke, stepping up to stand with the others. "Now's time for you to think long and hard about what you have done. My aunt is going to be investigating your pet Death Eater, and she asked me to pass on this message: if he so much as puts a toe out of line, she will arrest him on the spot and flush him through with Veritaserum until she gets the truth out of him!"

Albus staggered backwards, face white with fear. That could not be allowed, at all costs! What Severus knew could destroy all hopes of defeating Voldemort if it were made public! And he knew Amelia would bring everything out in open court… she was too honest to do anything else.

Harry, watching silently, saw the look of alarm on the Headmasters face. "Face facts old man; you're not the all-great, all-powerful wizard you project. You make mistakes. Everyone does. Thing is most of us are not too proud to admit to when we have made one. And when we do make one, all we suffer is some hurt pride. When you mess up… people die. If you really are on the side against Voldemort, then you really need to think about what you have been doing for the last few years, and how it affects _us_, not the wider population. In this game, there are no pawns. We refuse to just do your bidding without reason. When you're ready to explain everything, then we'll talk, and maybe find a way to work together. But you are not the puppet master any more!"

Albus was rocked to his core. "Is that how you think I see you, Harry? As a puppet?" He half whispered.

Harry nodded slowly and solemnly.

For several long seconds Dumbledore's mouth opened and closed, as if he were trying to say something, _anything_, to try and win back their trust. But the expressions of hostility and distrust were unwavering. Finally he shut his mouth and sat down, head bowed in thought.

Harry watched him carefully. The old mans slumped shoulders tugged at his conscious, but Harry recalled everything that Dumbledore had – and hadn't – done over his life. If the old coot was feeling guilty over his actions, that was fine by him. Maybe, just maybe, it'll get him to reconsider his actions and choices. And there was a chance that he'd relent and bring all his knowledge and theories into the open.

Harry snorted. And the Cannons will win the next season.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Harry looked up into his mother's eyes. The faint glimmer of a tear was in one corner.

"He was a good man Harry. But I almost don't recognise him any more. He's changed, and not for the better…" Lily trailed off as her eyes darted beyond him before icing over.

Looking over his shoulder, Harry saw the red face of Molly Weasley as she bore down on him. He sighed to himself in resignation, but Hermione squeezed his hand, comforting him.

"What the Hell were you thinking young man? Slandering a great man like that?" She yelled shrilly into his face, her own fully of bluster and latent threat.

Harry leaned back. "I was thinking about trying to knock some sense into him without resorting to my fists. He's lost touch Mrs Weasley."

"THAT'S A LOAD OF TRIPE, AND YOU KNOW IT!" But before Molly could say another word another redhead stepped between them.

"Just who do you think you are Mrs Weasley, scolding my son like that?" Lily asked calmly, but firmly.

Molly gulped as she took a step back from her. Lily Potter was a good six inches taller than herself. Moreover, Lily was giving off power that Molly could only dream of.

"Err… my apologies Lady Potter…"

Lily was silent for several long seconds, sizing up the dumpy woman before her. Harry, sitting just to one side, was struck at the contrast the two made. His mother was slim figured, elegant, almost regal in her calm demeanour. Molly Weasley was frumpy, frazzled and appeared to be wavering between outrage and panic.

"Just what kind of mother are you, Mrs Weasley?" Lily asked at last.

"What do you... how dare you? You dare say I'm a bad mother!" Molly screeched. "I was there for all my children, and others! Where were you?"

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. _'Wrong thing to say...'_

Lily's eyes narrowed to green slits. "Mrs Weasley... for the last fourteen years, I've been in two places at once. My body at Potter Manor... and in my sons head!"

Dumbledore gasped sharply at that. Did that mean what he thought it meant? Molly however, was clearly confused.

"What's that rubbish mean?"

"It means, that I have seen everything he's seen, been with him every step of his life."

Molly swallowed nervously as Lily pressed on.

"To me, your actions are most suspect. His first year, you 'forgot' the platform number, when not only is it the only one used, but you had five older sons, all who have been to Hogwarts. How could you have forgotten the number, so conveniently when Harry is unaware of how to reach it?"

Molly paled, her eyes flicking to Dumbledore for a split second. Deciding to let that go for now, Lily pushed on.

"And then there's the money issue. I had to listen as your sixth son Ronald constantly moaned about the lack of money, having third-hand things. Yet somehow you could afford to send all seven children to Hogwarts?"

"...We saved..."

"Don't bother Mrs Weasley." Harry cut in, turning over a small bundle of parchment that had been on the table before him. "We already know the truth."

Molly blanched as she looked at the top sheet. It was the marriage contract she had signed with Dumbledore.

"How can you justify this?" Harry asked quietly as Lily took a step back, giving him centre stage. "How could you dictate your own daughter's life, before she's even a year old? Steal from my inheritance?"

Molly appeared to deflate. "Harry… It was the only way for my children to attend Hogwarts. And…" She trailed off, finding no way to explain her actions to the young man before her.

"…And using my money to feed the Order? Buying your own children's school supplies?" Harry stated calmly. Once again, Molly's eyes darted to Dumbledore, but the old wizard didn't react. His attention was inwards.

"Harry… we didn't think you'd mind. We are on the same side…"

"And I likely would have agreed, _if _you had asked me beforehand!" Harry snapped, cutting her off. Slowly he breathed deeply, rubbing one hand over his brow while Hermione rubbed his back soothingly. "Mrs Weasley…" He continued more calmly. "…It's not the money it self that's the issue. It's the fact that you went behind my back without even asking. Plus that you had no right to withdraw my money for things other than for this… this offence." He tapped the contract before him.

"**Speaking of which, Mister Potter, Heir to Lord Black…"** Ragnok's booming voice smoothly stepped into the conversation. **"Gringott's position on that matter is clear. The Guardianship of one of the parties, yourself, has been altered before the final date. The contract is now voided."** The contract flashed red, before the text greyed out. **"As such, all funds withdraw under its pretence are considered potential theft."** Molly was now shaking badly, while Arthur was pained. **"Mister Potter, do you wish to press charges?"**

Harry bowed his head, thinking. There had been a lot of heated discussion about this very topic the last couple of days. Hermione and Susan both felt that the Weasleys should pay back every galleon, as it had been taken in bad faith. Daphne however was in favour of keeping the crime on the books as insurance against further manipulations. His mum also favoured not pressing charges, but remembering it for future dealings.

He lifted his head to regard the Weasleys in the room. Molly was looking at him with real fear in her eyes. Arthur was trying to project a stoic, calm face, but the despair was clear to see. Ginny was openly ashamed, while both the twins were stunned. Ron… Ron was looking around with blatant confusion.

Harry sighed. "The funds used to pay for Hogwarts tuition to date… let that go." Molly started to look relieved, but then Harry pushed on. "The other funds, those used for the school supplies of the younger Weasleys, and those used to support the Order of the Phoenix… I hold Molly Weasley personally responsible. Those funds must be repaid.

"However… I will not allow the whole family to be blamed or punished for one members mistakes. When I needed a welcoming family, the Weasley's gave me one. While the intentions of Molly Weasley are suspect, the rest were honest about it. Therefore, the funds stolen are to repaid, without interest. Pay me back when you can." Harry's expression hardened. "However, any further interfering, and I will call all owed funds due. Full refund." His gaze focused on Molly. "And I require an oath from Mrs Weasley to never make, use or allow to be used love potions again."

Arthur breathed easily for the first time in days. Harry was being more than fair. "I assure you Mr Potter, all we owe will be repaid."

Harry nodded slowly, understandingly. "Please understand Mr Weasley, I don't want to destroy your family. But I will not tolerate people trying to control my life."

Arthur looked at the young man in understanding, before he decided to make the offer he had been considering. "If you wish it, House Weasley will swear fealty to House Potter, right now."

Unsure as to what was being offered, Harry turned his head slightly to one side. "Daphne?" He asked quietly.

"It means that you would be able to command the entire Weasley Family as your own." Daphne explained as quickly and as simply as she could: there would be time to go over the details later. "None of them could betray you without renouncing their family name. You would however be held accountable for their actions, unless you could prove that you had no knowledge of said actions."

Harry nodded before turning back to face Arthur. "I will consider your offer Mr Weasley." Harry wanted to make sure that this wouldn't bite him in the arse, though his gut feeling was to take Arthur up on his offer.

Arthur nodded, before pulling gently on Molly's arm. The stunned, tearful witch slowly backed away, fearful eyes jumping between Lily, Harry and the ledge were the goblin High King sat.

"Well… that went well." Harry muttered once they had retreated to the other side of the chamber.

"Harry, Hermione?" They all turned to regard a clearly nervous Ginny. "Can we… talk, for a moment? Alone?"

Harry looked at Hermione, the question clear in his eyes. After biting her lip for a moment in thought, Hermione nodded, though there was a note of trepidation in her eyes. As he stood up Harry shared a look with the others, letting them know wordlessly that he and Hermione had this covered. Silently they followed Ginny off to one side, away from the others in the chamber.

For several long seconds Ginny said nothing, just looked between them. Her expression was wretched, regretful. Finally she spoke softly.

"I... I want to apologise for my... for what I said. Last time we spoke."

Neither older teen said anything, just continued to look at her with stony expressions. Summoning up every shred of courage she had, Ginny continued.

"I know I was horrible to you. Both of you. I… I know now that I was wrong to believe what my mother told me. Please believe me, I didn't know about that contract!" There was desperation in her voice as she looked between them wide eyed.

Harry looked at her firmly, but nodded slowly. "We believe you Ginny. But I'm still waiting for an explanation."

Ginny's shoulders slumped. "I can't explain it without it looking like I'm trying to pass off the blame. I'm at fault, I know that." She took a deep, shuddering breath before removing a sheaf of parchment from her robe pocket.

"After you saved me from the… Chamber Harry, as you know I went home with everyone else at the end of term. At no point did anyone bring up what had happened to me. Nor did I see any healer about it."

Hermione frowned. "I'd have thought you would have as a matter of course?"

Ginny nodded sadly. "Yes, I think so too. But Mum never set one up. Truthfully, none of us have gone to a healer unless it was really bad; mum did everything herself. 'Save money' and all that." Ginny scowled. "She had the gall to tell us money was tight, yet was using _your _inheritance to put us through Hogwarts?" She blushed, and then spoke quietly, contritely. "Had I known Harry…"

"It's okay. Bill said the same thing when we found out." Harry reassured her. "The money itself is not important. It's the contract itself that offended me."

Ginny appeared to sigh with relief. She then looked down at the parchment she held. "Harry, Hermione… two weeks ago I discovered that mum was using potions on you… along with myself and I think Ron. I convinced dad to take me to St Mungo's for an examination." She lifted her eyes to look at them. "I was also convinced that there was something left over from… from…" her bottom lip quivered, her eyes tearing.

Their stony expressions faded away, both Harry and Hermione looked at the youngest Weasley with concern. Hermione gently put her hand on the smaller girls shoulder, wordlessly giving her comfort. Ginny flashed a small smile, before holding out the parchment she held. "These are the results." She said quietly.

Hermione began to leaf through the report, Harry looking over her shoulder. While most of the results were meaningless to him, certain bits and lines jumped out.

'_High levels of a low-grade love potion found, oddest traces twelve years old. Trace readings suggest continuous dosing up until four years ago, then intermittent, but stronger dosing. Effects of potion likely to be permanent, patient's body now addicted to potion. Target of potion appears to be Harry Potter."_

'_Evidence of Loyalty potion, targeted to one Albus Dumbledore. Effects may linger till potion fully flushed.'_

'_Personality fragment discovered in subconscious, the result of possession by powerful entity. Fragment has tapped into patient's emotions and thought processes, likely affecting judgement and views. Emotional responses are skewed by fragments presence. Judgement likely to be impaired, as are morals.'_

'_Psychologically patient is showing symptoms of long-term influencing, a simple form of mind manipulation. Source appears to be patient's mother, proof of which has been provided via patients memories. Patient appears to have been influenced from young age to desire one Harry Potter, to be convinced that they are destined to be together. Almost impossible to completely reverse conditioning at this late stage.'_

To Hermione, the results were the stuff of nightmares. She looked at Ginny again, worry and concern in her eyes. The younger girl nodded slowly. "I can't take back what I said. But I hope to… one day, make up for what I've done."

Hermione nodded slowly before handing the parchment back across. "For what it's worth Ginny, I hope you recover."

Ginny's lips twitched as if she meant to smile, but the tears running down her cheeks showed her true feelings. Bowing her head, she walked back across the room to her father, who wrapped am arm around her as she all but burrowed into his side. Molly followed the pair as they exited, looking hurt and bewildered that her daughter was not coming to her for comfort. Her hand held Ron's upper arm, all but dragging him out with her. The twins remained in their seats, watching their parents leave, before looking back to Harry.

Harry and Hermione walked back over to the group. Casting a glance at the still form of Dumbledore, Harry looked up towards Goldbag. "Is there any other business Account Master?"

The Goblin looked over the parchment before him. "None in relation to the Will itself Mister Potter, but if you wish to honour the deceased wishes in regard to his cousins Andromeda, Bellatrix and Narcissa, then now is the time to do so."

There was a nervous intake of breath. "Mr Potter? Could we… have a word with you? About that?"

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know. It's another cliffe. But you have to admit it's not as bad as the last one ;)


	27. Back to Black

**A/N: **Hey everyone, here's the final part of the Will chapter. We deal with both the Black sisters and Fleur here.

I must admit though: I'm not totally happy with the final scene. Not sure what it is... oh well.

There's another hint to the second X-over towards the end. Kudos to anyone who catches it. Next chapter will go up in three weeks time, the last weekend of October, as close to Oct 31st as I can get. I'm trying to make it not a cliff-hanger, but the story is being... difficult.

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Harry turned his head to look at the speaker, feeling Hermione's arm tighten around his as he did. Narcissia Malfoy stood before him, but unlike how he'd seen her at the Quidditch World Cup, she didn't have her nose in the air, projecting a superior, snobbish air. Instead she seemed nervous, afraid. Instead of neat and immaculate, she was careworn, her hair partly disarrayed, dark bags under her eyes. There were no signs of makeup either.

And just over her shoulder was her sister… Bellatrix.

Pure hate and anger surged through him, all directed at the still hooded older woman. Some of his emotions must have been visible in his eyes as both women stepped back, alarm and fear on both their faces.

_That_ made Harry pause. Bellatrix, afraid? Mrs Malfoy seemed to use his pause to summon her courage once more.

"Mr Potter… we need to discuss certain topics, now that you are to be the next Lord Black." She paused, before pressing on. "Please, my lord. You're our only hope." She half-whispered.

Harry's eyes darted between the two older women, furiously thinking. What was their agenda? This was Malfoy's mom and Bellatrix, Sirius' murderer! But… they were acting totally not like he had expected of them. And just what was up with Bellatrix? If anything she looked even more worn out and tired than her sister. The marks of her years at Azkaban were never clearer. It was then he noticed her eyes… there wasn't the maniacal gleam from before. Instead they showed… fear? Regret? Pain? His gut was telling him to at least listen, but…

Narcissa, seeing the indecision in his face, reached into her pocket slowly, and drew out her wand with two fingers, before offering him it… handle first. "If it helps, you many have our wands while we talk."

Wordlessly Bellatrix copied her actions, and Harry found the wand that had killed his godfather offered to him… by the one who had cast the spell that killed him.

Hermione, watching his face with one eye, saw that he was going to listen. While part of her was pleased at his mature reaction, a larger part – the emotional part – was screaming that this was stupid. "Not without me here you're not." She muttered loudly enough to be heard.

"Or me." Lily echoed the sentiment. "You may be a Hero Harry, but you are still my son, and not yet of age."

Harry just smiled over his shoulder. "Thanks mum." He said warmly. Lily smiled back. They both knew that she was not yet back to fighting form, but the sisters didn't know that. Turning to face them again, Harry reached and took both wands. As he did he noticed that the others had gathered around, clearly interested in this. Remus and Tonks both looked murderous, while Daphne was openly curious. Behind the sisters was their third sister, Tonk's mother Andromeda. She looked conflicted between anger and hope. Harry looked up into the recess where Ragnok was sat. "High King, I hate to impose…"

"_**Say nothing more Mr Potter."**_ Ragnok said as he straightened. _**"You may use this room for as long as you need."**_ After a hand gesture, the other goblins exited, Goldbag closing the door behind him.

Harry turned back to the sisters, a hard expression on his face. "Okay. Now, talk."

Narcissa looked around at the frankly intimidating array of witches and wizards gathered around them. Seeing that there was no sympathy for either of them, Narcissa hesitated.

"Tell them 'Cissa." Bella said softly.

Narcissa sighed before starting to speak. "Mr Potter… we… we both beg you to annul our marriages, as Si… Sirius…" A sob of grief escaped her throat, while Bella's eyes closed as she bowed her head. After a moment, Narcissa regained her composure. "We also wish for you to… use your Status as Head of the Black Family to grant us… sanctuary. From The Dark Lord and his followers."

Harry had not expected that. "Run that by me again." He asked slowly. Around him everyone else appeared to be surprised as well. "You wish to leave Voldemort, and are asking _me _to protect you?"

Naricssa nodded. "It's not safe... for either of us. I... I can't stand my husband anymore! The sick bastards taken the one thing I achieved in my life, and twisted and corrupted it into a pale copy of himself!" The cool, level tone in her voice had been replaced with anger and pain. "When I was contracted to him, I hoped that I could grow to love him, even though he wasn't the one I really wanted..."

Hermione felt a shiver run up her spine. She had had similar thoughts towards the end of last year regarding herself and Ron, back when she feared that Harry would never return her feelings for him. Though lately she had wondered if potions had been involved...

Lady Malfoy continued to speak. "Mister Potter... I beg of you to release me from my sham of a marriage." She slowly sunk to her knees. "I offer my services, in any way you chose. Please, my Lord!"

From the gasps that came from Daphne and Mrs Tonks, Harry guessed that what Mrs Malfoy had said meant what he thought he meant. Looking down at the blonde however, Harry was still only seeing Malfoy's mum. "Why now? Why not try and leave before? Why should I trust you?"

Narcissa shivered before answering. "Because my Lord, until now there has not been a legal Lord Black who could annual my marriage. The previous Lord, Sirius's father, would never have considered it, while Sirius... his fugitive status prevented him from doing so. And I could not just walk away... Lucius would not have let me." A deep shudder passed through her frame. "You have no idea how, creative, he got with his punishment when I 'defied' him."

Harry winced, and he saw Hermione blanch out of the corner of his eye. Knowing what Draco was like, and the abuse of Dobby, he could imagine that Malfoy Senior was capable of anything.

"Also my lord... I see clearly what the Dark Lord has become. A monster! Utterly deranged! He'll destroy everything in his mad desire for power! Even work with old monsters..." The last she half muttered.

"Explain."

"I offer this information freely. The Dark Lord has gained a new ally..." She appeared to take a moment to steel herself. "A former officer of the _Magische Schutzstaffel... _an officer that followed Grindelwald. Plus his elite guard."

Sharp intakes of breath resounded around them. Mrs Tonks strangled "Oh Morgana!" told Harry, who had only an inkling of how bad such a person could be, that this was very bad.

He refocused his attention on her. "What about your mark?"

Narcissa shivered before she pushed up her left sleeve, exposing nearly white skin, unblemished. "I never took the Dark Mark my lord."

Harry nodded slowly before turning to the still standing Bellatrix. "What about yourself?" His tone was harsh, questioning.

Bellatrix seemed to fold in on herself. "Mister Potter... I... I wish to atone for my actions. I know that I can't ever be forgiven, but..." Tears ran down her gaunt cheeks. Taking a shaky breath, she started to speak haltingly.

"I... don't know exactly what happened, or why. When he got back from the ministry... that night... The Dark Lord was in a terrible rage. His anger was far, far worse than I've ever seen." She shuddered, clearly at some memory of that time. "In the course of his rage, I... my Mark was damaged."

Everyone's eyes were on her arm as she bared it. The Dark Mark was there, yet also torn, slashed and broken. The Mark itself was also faded, much like an old muggle tattoo. The skin around it also appeared to have been burnt recently.

"A week later, a little over three ago... something happened. I felt incredible pain through my Mark. White hot, intense pain. It... overwhelmed me."

Hermione's eyes had gone wide at Bellatrix's words, and she shared a look with Susan and Daphne. That had been when they had 'Cured' Harry. The timing was too coincidental. Had their 'Cure', which they now knew had driven out the fragment of Riddle's soul from Harry, also been responsible for this?

Bellatrix shuddered, clearly struggling to continue. "When I awoke, after... I didn't remember myself. I... had no idea where I was. I was... shocked when I saw my image in the mirror. It was only when I saw... this." She shook her left arm. "...That I remembered. Everything that happened to me. Everything... I... did."

She broke down at the last word, dropping to her knees before him, sobs wracking her body. Narcissa reached across and wrapped her into a hug, trying to sooth her. Surprisingly, Mrs Tonks stepped forwards before kneeling on Bellatrix's free side, offering more support and comfort. Narcissa looked at their older sister in shock, the question clear in her eyes.

"Despite everything she's done, she's still my sister." Andromeda Tonks said. "As are you."

Harry shuffled on his feet, uncomfortable with the display before him. It had been so much easier when he could simply hate her, blame her for Sirius's death. But now, after hearing her story... he felt _sorry _for her. It was clear that there was more she was not saying.

Harry waited until her sobs had faded. "So why are you coming to me? Surely you should just turn yourself in to the Aurors?"

Bellatrix snorted. "That would just sign my death warrant!" She slowly sat back up, but remained on her knees. "I know I deserve death for what I've done, but I want... I want..." She had to draw in a deep breath before she managed to continue. "I want to try and make up for what I've done. Hopeless, I know, but..."

She trailed off as Harry continued to look at her, his face impassive. She nervously swallowed, hoping, praying, that he would give her a chance. While she still had no respect for Dumbledore, surely some of his nature would have rubbed off on the boy?

From his seat across the room the old wizard watched the scene closely. Would Harry forgive, or would he turn her away, stepping down the path to Darkness? He was about to speak up, to urge Harry to forgive and accept both ladies offers... but then he remembered the hostility that Harry and the others around him had displayed towards him.

For almost a minute Harry stood there, his expression unreadable, saying nothing. Every set of eyes jumped between him and the two older witches kneeling before him. Both Narcissa and Bellatrix found dread clawing at their hearts...

At last he spoke. "Susan, could you alert the Goblins that I have a request of their High King?"

A confused Susan nodded before walking over the doors leading out. Opening them enough to stick her head out, she found Goldbag standing just a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back, clearly waiting.

"Er... could you send word to High King Ragnok that Harry would like to speak with him?" She asked nervously.

Goldbag nodded slowly. Susan didn't notice, but as she drew back into the chamber a small smile began to form on the Goblins face.

Susan had just re-joined the group when the sound of a door opening drew eyes to the darkened ledge where Ragnok had been. A dark form became visible. _**"Of what do you wish to discuss, Mister Potter?"**_

Harry breathed deeply. "High King… I wish to request a dispensation on the use of wizarding magic within Gringotts."

"_**For what purpose?"**_

"I intend to grant both Narcissa and… Bellatrix's, wishes, and grant them sanctuary." Gasps rose from all around him as he looked at the two older witches. Both were looking up at him with hope in their eyes, jaws open in shock. "But… I need them to swear oaths of loyalty before I will do so."

Ragnok was silent for a long time, looking over the scene before him. Young Mister Potter stood proud and tall, surrounded by his supporters. On their knees before him were the two sisters…both who had nervous looks in their eyes now.

Finally he spoke. _**"You may proceed. Provided that Gringotts employees act as the sisters Bonders."**_

Harry nodded, before looking once more at the sisters. Wordlessly he held out their wands. With shaky hands they both reclaimed their wands before slowly lifting them to point straight up, ready to swear their oaths.

Ragnok leaned to one side, gesturing with one hand. The Captain of his Guard stepped silently forward.

"Send for Breaker Weasley and his assistant Miss Delacour. Inform Breaker Weasley that he is reinstated to active duty." The Captain nodded before stepping back to speak with one of the guards.

Down on the floor Harry looked between the two older witches. "Listen carefully." Harry started to speak, his tone firm. "Dumbledore may give out chance after chance, but I do not! This is your only chance. Betray me or my friends, and that's it! The Dementors would be kinder than I will!" Shivers ran down everyone's spines who heard this. The seriousness in his voice was crystal clear. His words were not a threat, but a promise.

The doors to the rear opened, prompting eyes to jump to them. Bill and Fleur stepped in… and stopped, stunned at the sight before them. Bill turned his gaze towards the ledge were Ragnok stood, awaiting his command. Fleur had to strain to get her eyes off Harry… power was rolling off him in waves that threatened to send her over the edge!

Once he had both their attentions Ragnok spoke. _**"Breaker Weasley, Miss Delacour… you are to act as Bonders to the Oaths that the soon to be former Mrs Malfoy and Mrs LeStrange will make to one Mister Potter."**_ Both started at the names mentioned, Bill having to restrain himself from attacking the kneeling form of Bellatrix. Drawing in shaky breaths, they moved to stand either side of the sisters, Andromeda moving aside to give them room. Bill stood at Narcissa's side, while Fleur was by Bellatrix. Breathing deeply to steady themselves, they drew their wands before nodding to Harry, letting him know they were ready. Having been drilled on the way Oaths were made – as they were part of the signing of the Alliances that had been formed, and which both Madam Bones and Erikson Greengrass had filed with the Ministry by now – Harry held out his hands, palm down. The sisters griped his hands in their free ones.

"Now, you must vow to never knowingly lie to myself or anyone connected to my House…"

"…Defend myself, my Family and my Friends with your lives if need be…"

"…Offer any and all assistance you can possibly give…"

"…Reveal any information you know about The Dark Lord, aka Voldemort aka Tom Riddle…"

'…Provide a list of every single Death Eater you know of, plus those you suspect…"

'…Have no contact with any of your former colleagues, except when I expressly grant it…"

"…Follow any order I give you, regardless of the outcome to yourselves…"

"…Treat anyone associated with myself as you would me…"

"…and list every crime you, your spouses or other related individuals have committed that you know of."

One by one, both Narcissa and Bellatrix swore the tenets of Harry's Oath. Each time, long thin strands of flame shot out of Bill's or Fleur's wands and curled around the clasped hands Harry shared with each one. Each strand wove itself in with the others, forming a complex chain of strands that linked the clasped hands together. At points he got odd looks from the others, but his face remained stony. It was clear Harry was not going to compromise on anything here.

"Now, in addition…" Harry's gaze settled on Narcissa. "…You, Mrs Malfoy, must publicly renounce your son Draco, and offer a public apology to Hermione Granger, for all the pain he has caused her over the last five years."

"Harry, she doesn't…" Hermione started to protest.

"I may not have noticed everything Hermione…" Harry's tone was soft and gentle as he spoke to her, the warmth in his eyes cutting off any protest she could make. "… But I could see how his words hurt you. You deserve at least some recompense."

In any other setting Hermione would have wrapped him in the tightest hug she could have. But here in Gringotts, while they were doing this, was not the time.

But oh boy was he getting lucky tonight!

Harry's expression turned hard once more as he refocused his attention on Bellatrix. He had to swallow to drive down the hate and anger that surged through him at the sight of Sirius's murderer. While she claimed remorse, the pain for opportunities lost still hurt…

"As for you Mrs LeStrange… You have to apologise to Neville Longbottom, and allow him to take whatever revenge he desires."

Bellatrix shuddered in fear as the others looked between themselves nervously. She knew what she had done to the boys' parents… his rage and pain had to be at least as bad as Harry's. And he would have full rights to kill her there and then.

But if she wanted to escape the Dark Lord… shakily she agreed to Harry's terms.

Harry looked between them both. "One last thing. You must both cast off any notions of Blood Purity, Bigotry or prejudice that you have. I will NOT allow _anyone _in my house to be discriminated against! Muggle, Magical, Goblin, Werewolf, whatever! ALL ARE EQUAL IN HOUSE POTTER!" He all but yelled the last, his force of will imprinting itself on everyone around him, causing eyes to widen, for a range of reasons. For most it was a glimpse of the Harry Potter who stood toe-to-toe with the Darkest Lord in centuries, who would take on a thousand year old Basilisk just to save a life. It hinted at the man that he could become.

Behind them all Ragnok's eyebrow rose even as a tiny smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. _'I must keep an eye on this one…'_

Lily beamed with pride as she looked over her son. While he physically was still a little undersized, his morals and honour stood like giants.

Fleur shivered as her desire for Harry nearly took her over the edge once more. Those words were everything that she desired and dreamed off: a world without bigotry. A tiny gasp escaped her mouth as she felt a trickle run down the inside of her leg, and she clamped her thighs together. She had to approach Harry and the others soon, before she dragged him to the floor and shagged him where he was!

A tear ran down Remus's cheek as he marvelled at how James son had grown. He truly was coming into both his own and his parent's legacy. He had the drive from both, Lily's compassion and James determination. Harry was the future.

Just then, a scent came to his nose, making it twitch. His inner wolf growled lustily, and Remus found his eyes drifting to Miss Delacour. His eyes narrowed as he took in her flushed features, the strained way she stood, the rapid breathing as she looked at Harry. From the scent rolling off her, he could tell that the part-Veela was highly aroused. Though anyone even looking at her could have guessed that was the case. His inner wolf howled, knowing that there was an aroused, sexually attractive female present, but he ruthlessly reined it in. She was too young, too beautiful for him. To be honest, the same was true of Tonks, but Remus knew that she desired him. Fleur however, was clearly lusting after Harry. He realised that he had to talk with Harry, quickly. From the look in her eyes, Fleur was not going to restrain herself much longer.

The only one not outwardly affected by Harry's words was Dumbledore, still sat in his seat, eyes fixed with a glazed expression ahead. His mind registered what Harry had said, though his conscious thoughts didn't.

The bindings between Harry and the two older witches was almost blinding now, their hands totally hidden by the threads of magic. Throughout the vow Harry's expression hadn't shifted one bit from the stern, foreboding expression he had started with. Both sisters had glanced up at him, and both had felt chilled to the bone: they knew that if they broke the trust that Potter was putting in them, he would be after them with fiery, relentless vengeance.

"Do you swear, on your magic, to uphold this vow?"

Bellatrix gulped. While at first glance Potter was letting them off lightly, not asking for their lives if they broke the vow. But she realised the other side of this. They had both grown up as witches: their magic was part of who they were. Without that, who were they? She could not imagine living without magic, not after her time in Azkaban. It terrified her: she'd rather die than live without magic.

But even more frightening was returning to the Dark Lord.

"I swear." She answered him quietly.

Harry turned his gaze onto her sister.

Narcissa's thoughts echoed her sisters, only the thought of no longer having magic was even more terrifying to her. She'd never had to make do without her magic to do... well, everything. The thought of being reduced to a squib... Narcissa was grateful that she hadn't been able to eat anything that morning: the churning of her stomach would surely have brought it back over Potter's shoes.

"As do I... I mean, I swear."

"As the Heir to the Potter and Black Family lines, I accept your vows. So mote it be!" Harry intoned solemnly, the coaching of the previous week showing in his manner. The bright threads that bound his hands to the sisters glowed brilliantly before seeming to sink into their flesh. Both kneeling witch shuddered slightly as they felt the raw power of Harry binding the oaths to them. It was then that they realised that this young man was the one who could stand up to the Dark Lord.

Letting go of their hands Harry stepped back a touch, a half smile on his face. "It won't be official until the thirty-first, but welcome back to the Black Family." His expression hardened once more. "Don't make me regret this."

Narcissa had almost collapsed with relief: only Andromeda's support kept her up. Bellatrix now bowed to the point her forehead almost touched the floor. "Thank you my Lord."

Harry grimaced. "Look, just call me Harry. And there's no need to bow or kneel or anything like that..." After a moment of encouragement both sisters stood. Bellatrix's eyes however remained on the floor before his feet.

"My Lord, as proof of my new loyalties, I offer this: Early on in his first rise to power, The Dark Lord gave me something, a cup, that he bade me to keep safe, whatever the cost." The pale skinned, dark-haired witch shivered. "It was a couple of days later that I realised what it was."

Harry shared a look with his mom. "What was it, and what did you do with it?"

Bellatrix sighed. "It was the fabled cup of Helga Hufflepuff, but..." Dumbledore looked up at that, his eyes wide. "...he'd corrupted it! He's used it to house a fragment of his black soul!"

"A Horcrux?" Susan asked, aghast at the sacrilege.

Bellatrix and Dumbledore started, before she replied. "Yes. I knew, even as I was then, that it was too dangerous to keep around people. So I..." She looked nervously towards the ledge where Ragnok sat. "Well… I placed it in the LeStrange Family Vault here at Gringotts. Then, for added security, I placed curses on nearly all the treasure and items within the vault."

The tension in the air skyrocketed. For a moment there was silence, then everyone heard clearly the sounds of the Goblin High King standing up once more.

"_**Do you mean to say that you, Bellatrix LeStrange, knowingly placed such an abomination within the walls of this institution?"**_ Ragnok's voice was brimming with anger and power. _**"And you used magic without permission?"**_

Bellatrix was shaking on the spot, but was determined to make amends. Forcing herself to stand tall, she faced the High King before answering. "Yes. Gringotts is known as the safest and most secure place in the whole Magical World. In my deranged state, I figured that no-one would ever even think about trying to steal something from here. The curses I added were a final insurance, just in case there was someone as crazy as I was."

For several long seconds no one spoke, awaiting the Goblins High Kings response, but he said nothing. Bellatrix shivered under the gaze she could not see but could feel.

At last he spoke. _**"Very well. Before you leave today, you will remove that offence to all magical beings from the LeStrange vault. And you with remove the curses. A hefty fine will be levelled on the LeStrange family. If none of these things are done before the end of today... the consequences will be... most dire."**_

Bellatrix's tension escaped in a deep sigh. "It shall be as you command, High King."

Ragnok's outline nodded. _**"We are pleased that you considered our institution the most secure place in our world. That compliment will not be forgotten. But note this: We would be perfectly in our rights to kill you where you stand. Your actions as Mrs LeStrange are unforgivable. You are only getting this chance to walk away because of your vow to Mister Potter. A young man who... interests me. And has proven to be a most honest individual. But any more crimes against our nation will be met with swift and lethal response."**_

Bellatrix bowed to the shadow. "Thank you for your generosity, High King." The relief was clear in her tone. She looked towards Harry... though once more not quite meeting his eyes.

Harry nodded. "Let's go get that now. Unless there's anything else?"

Surprisingly, someone who Harry was not expecting spoke up.

"Um... 'Arry?" He turned to look at Fleur Delacour in surprise. The older Veela still looked flushed, but now her expression was more one of embarrassment... and regret?

"Yes Fleur?" Hermione answered for them both, concern edging into her voice.

"I... I 'ave to ask... c'est très difficile..." She dropped her eyes to the dark stone floor for a moment before visibly taking a deep breath. "I need to ask a favour of toi 'Erminone."

The surprise was clear in Hermione's reply. "Me?"

Fleur nodded. "Oui. It is clear to moi 'zat you 'ill be 'zer next Lady Potter..."

The two of them looked at each other for a moment. "You're right Fleur. We filed in the betrothal contract..." Her distaste was clear. "...in this morning. But... we hope to keep this quiet for now."

Fleur nodded in understanding. "Bon. Make's sense. 'owever... are you aware of zer... other options, being zer lord of two wealthy families gives toi?" She hesitated before pressing on. "In regard to... d'autres épouses... other _partners_?"

"Are you referring to Consorts?" Hermione asked as her eyes narrowed.

Fleur's figure relaxed slightly. "Yes."

Harry however was puzzled. "What are you hinting at Fleur? I thought you and Bill were happy together?"

Fleur shared a long look with Bill Weasley, who Harry noted looked downcast but resolute. He nodded slowly towards the beautiful French witch.

"First 'Arry, I must explain some truth's about Vella…" She quickly spoke of the true nature of the often misunderstood Veela, how their powers were a mixture of fire and passion. How they were sensitive to feelings and moods. And magical auras. "All being's 'ave an aura 'Arry. A true, full-blood Veela can read much 'bout a person from zer aura. As only a quarter-veela, my habilités… my skills, are more limited. But I can still sense…" She shifted uncomfortably.

"Go on." Hermione encouraged her, all hostility and suspicion gone from her tone. Susan and Daphne had moved up to either side of Harry while Hermione had moved to wrap an arm around Fleur. Lily watched on from one side, an idea of what Fleur was going to say in her mind.

Fluer smiled at Hermione, feeling the honest support coming from the younger witch. She could feel the bonds between her and Harry, and the other two young witches that flanked him. Her inner Veela longed for such bonds of love and companionship, and so she took a deep breath.

"You are aware of 'ze idea of a 'Soul Mate'?" At Harry's nod, she pressed on. "I do not know if 'eet is true of ozzers, but for Veela it iz. For every witch with Veela blood, 'zer is one man in the world whose a perfect match. Most never find him, but meet one whose a… a… semblable… a good match." Fleur scowled lightly at her own stumbling over her English words. It always happened when she got nervous. She lifted her eyes to Harry's incredulous ones. "When we first met, I sensed a **écho**… a… possibility, that you might be 'ze one. But… 'zer was 'zom thing… _dark_, that was clinging to toi. It… _repulsed_ me. It stank of Death and Hate. Things 'zat, as a part-veela, are… _poison_, to me. So I looked elsewhere. Bill…" She looked once more at the older red-head, who smiled softly but sadly at her. "…He is a good match, a very good match…" Fleur blushed slightly before a tear ran down her cheek.

"I was looking forward to living out my life with him. I 'zought that I had found my man. It was not ideal: papa would have had to ensure a suitable match for Gabrielle, or have 'za family name die out."

Harry swallowed nervously. He was starting to get an idea of where things were going.

Fleur shivered. "Zen 'zer was the barbeque… 'za party. As soon as I saw you Harry, I saw…" Fleur licked her dry lips. "The darkness, 'zat knot of hate was gone from your aura. I… I sensed your true Aura then." Another tear ran down her cheek.

"Let me guess: your 'Perfect Partner'?" Harry groaned.

Fleur nodded sadly. "Yes. My inner self… it locked onto you. I tried… 'ord knows I tried to resist, tried to ignore… but I can't! My inner self cries out for you 'Arry. I can't love another again, not like this." A sob escaped her throat. "I know 'zis is not what you want to hear…"

"Oh Fleur…" Hermione now wrapped her arms around the now crying Veela, holding her close. Within her, Hermione decided then and there that Fleur would be welcome into their growing family. Maybe she could be the next Lady Black? No, she realised, as she reviewed what she had read about the Black Families conditions and past. A clause in the Line of Succession stated that only those from fully human couples would be accepted. Muggleborns and anything with even a fraction of non-human blood – such as Veela – could not inherit the Line, nor could their children. If Fleur became Lady Black, then Sirius's legacy would default back to Draco, despite Sirius's Will. Harry would have to find another, at least a Half-blood, to maintain control of the Black Family.

Wordlessly she looked towards Susan, then Daphne. Both looked at her, saw the thought in her eyes, and nodded, agreeing. Both had been touched at Fleur's tale, understanding that she was skimming over much in the interests of time. They could get all the details later. Right now though, they had to make a decision. While all three had concerns and reservations, could they really turn her away?

Harry, seeing the looks they shared, sighed. "I guess we had better have the Tonk's draw up another Consort Contract…" He sighed. Truthfully he was not totally against this: what red-blooded male would? Fleur was, in the eyes of just about every male, stunningly beautiful. Pure sexiness on legs. But more than just that, Harry could see that behind the fabulous figure and flawless features, there was a determined, intelligent young woman craving acceptance, one who was likely to share much with him. He had girls eyeing him like he was a bar of chocolate, because of his fame. While list year his reputation in the Prophet and his general surliness –which he now regretted – had kept them away, he could now see many had been contemplating trying to get close to him. But how many would have done so to get to know him, and how many would have done so simply because he was 'Harry Potter'? Ginny had been an extreme, but far from singular, example.

Now that he thought about it, Fleur would likely have had similar issues. With her stunning figure, men would have falling over themselves to have her on their arm. And likely would kill to hold her close. How many times had she been approached, he wondered, by those just wanting to be able to say they had been with a Veela? How many had looked beyond, to see Fleur Delacour herself?

Fleur looked up now, an expression of hope beginning to form on her face. "Really? Tu would do that?"

Harry nodded as Hermione answered. "We're your friends first Fleur. Friends help each other out." Her eyes jumped to Susan and Daphne as she said that, her lip twitching as they smiled back at her.

Fleur looked between them all now, allowing her full senses to expand and encompass them. The bonds of affection, love and trust that linked them shone brilliantly, the balance equal. Yet… she noticed that Harry's aura linked with them all, and allowed them to link with each other. But there was areas on all of them that were not linked, but which she could just feel that she could match equally as well. It had been her greatest fear about revealing all of this to them, that while she would get her Mate, the other women would resent her, shun her. But she could feel how together she, Harry, and the others could form a whole far greater than the sum of their parts. Together, they could achieve things that many thought impossible.

Her happiness and joy bubbled over. "Zank You!" She almost yelled, wrapping her arms around Hermione, almost dancing with her before she kissed her on both cheeks several times. Fleur paused for a heat beat, then decided to forge ahead with what she felt would happen in the future. Shifting her hands from Hermione's shoulders to her cheeks, she quickly kissed the younger woman on the lips.

Hermione's eyes widened dramatically as the French beauty kissed her. This was not at all what she expected! Her brain shut down, overwhelmed with the sensations.

Harry found himself fighting a chuckle at Hermione's expression, before he spied Bill's face over Fleur's shoulder. The eldest Weasley son looked so forlorn, so despondent, that Harry felt like the bad guy. Gently disengaging from Susan and Daphne – both of whom were still focusing on Hermione and Fleur – he walked over to the older man. "Bill?" He asked softly.

Bill shook himself before refocusing his attention on Harry. "Hey Harry."

Harry looked up at him. "Bill, I'm sorry…" He began, but he was waved off.

"It's not your fault Harry. I don't blame you. I don't even blame Fleur. She told me about the possibility of this when we first hooked up. I just never…" He trailed off, taking a deep, long breath. "It was tearing her apart from within, you know, fighting her own nature." He refocused his eyes on his former girlfriend, who was currently in a group hug with Susan and Daphne. "I just… want her to be happy now." His voice hinted at the pain that Harry could see in his eyes. It was clear that despite his words, Bill was suffering. But equally as clear was that deep down, Bill was telling the truth: he did not hold Harry responsible.

Harry half smiled, relieved that there was no hard feelings between them. Ron's anger issues had left their mark on him. "Would you like to visit some time, to catch up with her, make sure she's happy?" He asked nervously.

Bill smiled at him. "Maybe not right away… need to sort out my own feelings really. But sometime, maybe…" He sighed deeply. "I hope you have a big place to stay Harry. Four wives?" There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. "It'll be five soon. I'll need to find someone willing to be Mrs Black as well."

"Ouch." Bill shook his head. "I don't envy you."

A small smirk touched Harry's lips. "It has its up sides."

Bill grinned in reply.

"I bet it does."

"Four stunning women draped around you all the time?"

"Sounds like paradise."

Both Harry and Bill turned to regard the Weasleys twins who had moved up to join them.

"Tough luck Bill."

"But you know…"

"…Harry here…"

"…Trumps everyone."

"Even when he's not trying."

"All right, enough guys." Harry admonished them lightly. The two just grinned at him. Then they turned serious.

"Just wanted to let you know Harry…"

"…The girls have almost finished working on your order."

"Alicia reckoned they'll be done by this evening."

Harry nodded slowly. "Good. Call for Dobby when they're done. He'll collect them." Harry's eyes drifted to Fleur. "I'll need another couple of sets…"

"Say no more Harry."

"Anything you want, we'll do."

"We owe you, big time." In their eyes, Harry could see the pain and shame from their mother's actions.

"Just stay alive, that's all I ask." Harry looked between them, before his eyes drifted to the girls, then to Bill. "I want all of us to survive this."

The twins nodded before looking over his shoulder, their eyes widening slightly. When Harry looked himself. He smiled happily.

Lily Potter had stepped around the others and was walking towards him. No longer needing to hide her identity, she had allowed the robes she wore to fall open, revealing the smart, figure hugging grey suit she was wearing underneath. Harry had to admit: his mom was hot.

"Eye's back in your heads boys." She said lightly, a smile dancing at the corners of her mouth. "I'm technically old enough to be your own mother." She redirected her attention to her son as the twins choked a little. "Harry, the reading is over. We should head down to the vaults."

Harry nodded, glancing towards where the Black sisters stood. The three of them were talking between each other; it looked like both Bellatrix and Narcissa were apologising to Andromeda. "Yes. We can't leave that horcrux down there."

Bill shuddered at the word. "Horrible things, Horcruxes. Encountered a couple while I was in Egypt. Nearly lost a team member once."

Harry's eyes snapped to the Curse Breaker. "You know about them? In detail?" At Bills nod, Harry pressed on. "How to destroy them?"

"Yes. Part of the standard training as a Gringott's Curse Breaker." Bill replied, a little concerned at this line of questioning. "This is about You-… Voldemort?"

Harry nodded. "We could really do with your help Bill. We're sure he made several of those things; it's the only thing that makes sense with him still alive. If you could help..."

Bill thought for a moment, while a part of him was still reeling from the mere idea that _anyone _would make more than one of those abominations. "I don't know if I can find the time…"

"You will have the time Breaker Weasley." High King Ragnok's voice startled them all, and they all turned to see him stood just to one side. His Captain of Guards was just over one shoulder, while the pair were flanked by four more armoured, spear and shield wielding Goblin Warriors. Harry took one look at them… and was instantly _very _glad that the goblins were not on Voldemort's side.

Bill dropped to one knee. "Sire?"

"In light of the revelations concerning the one known as Voldemort, as well as the personal developments of Mister Potter…" Those dark, deep eyes snapped to Harry for a moment, before jumping to where Fleur was. "…I am reassigning both yourself Breaker Weasley and Miss Delacour. You will be Gringott's envoy to Mister Potter's Alliance. Provide him with any and all assistance you can. The resources of the Goblin Nation will be on call, if needed."

Harry blinked in confusion, but it was clear that the others weren't by the gasps that escaped their throats. "Sire?" Bill asked once again, his voice higher pitched.

"This… Voldemort is bad for business. Bad business means less profit." Ragnok explained. He turned to face Harry. "We cannot openly align ourselves with you Mister Potter. To do so would cause damage to Gringott's image of neutrality, and thus our Business. But know that we desire the removal of this blight on the magical world."

Harry bowed low to the Goblin King, only just biting back his own feelings. He didn't like the Goblins self-centred outlook, but Daphne's lessons on protocol and diplomacy at least allowed him to understand. "Thank you, High King. Be assured that I am dedicated to the destruction of Voldemort, and his ideology."

A silver eyebrow rose. "An ambitious objective. May you succeed in you quest." As one the six goblins turned and walked out.

It fell to the twins to break the sudden silence.

"Wicked!"

* * *

"I forgot how much I hated these things…"

Chuckles rose from around Lily Potter as she unsteadily stepped out of the mine cart that had ferried them all down to the Potters Family Vault. Harry, who had ridden up front with Susan, was beaming along with the younger redhead. The pair of them had enjoyed the ride down the tracks immensely, Harry whooping with laughter while Susan had cheered, her long red hair streaming out behind her… and nearly snapping in Daphne's face. Fortunately for the blond, Daphne had been sat back in the second cart, next to Fleur Delacour. The two had just sat back and watched their future husband with fond smiles, often sharing a glance. Although no words had been exchanged during the ride, the two had already formed a connection.

Lily had been in the next row, with Hermione next to her. She didn't like the cart ride any more than Lily had, and they had both clung to each other the whole time. Lily was certain that Hermione had muttered "I really don't like the look of this…" just before the cart had plunged into the shaft. Lily's hand had nearly lost all blood circulation from Hermione's grip. Then again Hermione's was in the same boat.

The third cart had the Black Sisters in the front row, with the Weasley twins behind them. During the whole ride, which Bellatrix had enjoyed while her sister had shivered, neither of the two red-heads had taken their eyes off the older witches. Harry had asked them to keep an eye on them, and they would not fail him. They owed him far too much, and had both already volunteered to follow him wherever he went.

They had already stopped off at the LeStrange Vault, where Bellatrix, under the intense scrutiny of a half dozen goblin warriors and the goblin Captain of the Guard, had undone all the curses and spells she had left on the contents of the vault. Shivers had passed through the frames of the older members of their party as she lifted each curse, and even Harry had felt worried; some of those curses sounded really nasty. At last it was done, and Bellatrix had stepped aside to allow the goblins in. They had moved methodically through the contents, valuing everything and identifying many cursed and illegal items. Most, Harry was given to understand, would be destroyed, the costs added to the fine the LeStrange family was suffering for Bellatrix's… ideas. With that plus the transfer to Harry – as compensation for the murder of his Godfather – the LeStrange brothers would be all but bankrupt. Something, Bellatrix had assured them, would drive the two snobbish, conceited sods mad. They had led a privileged life. Now they would lose the means to fund one… if they ever got out of Azkaban again.

Bellatrix had only taken one item from the vault: the cup she had spoken of. It was a small thing, but clearly worth a lot to the right people. And it seemed, somehow, to exude a sense of dread, of darkness. Fleur had noticeably backed away from it, and Harry had shivers running up his back. He wanted no contact with it. After sealing it away in a specially lined box, in the custody of Bill, the party had climbed back into the carts for the descent down to the Potter's vault, which was in the most secure part of Gringotts and amongst only a few other, prominent names. Most were defunct, the lines having ended long ago, but the vaults remained, reminders of the past.

The last cart had brought Bill, Remus and Tonks, all three of which had been given the task of watching the box containing the goblet… and each other. No one was taking any chances with it. If it truly was another of Voldemorts Horcruxes, then Harry knew from bitter experience that it would be high seductive and very dangerous. He wanted it destroyed as soon as possible; keeping the thing around was just plain stupid, in Harry's opinion. Even Bellatrix the loyal follower of the madman himself had felt the danger.

Once they were all alighted their goblin guide stepped over to the door, the Potter Family Key Lily had handed over in his hand. Stopping before the door, he raised his free hand before speaking goblin, chanting something it sounded like, while drawing a long finger down just an inch from the featureless door. After several long seconds the image of the Potter coat-of-arms faded into view on the imposing slab of stone, along with a keyhole. The goblin inserted the key, turned it a quarter turn, spoke another phrase, and then finished turning the key. Several heavy clunking sounds echoed around them, and a thin seam formed around the slab. Slowly it sank into the floor.

"Please wait here for a moment." He said before stepping forwards. Harry frowned as he looked through the door. Where were the contents? All he saw was a short corridor…

"This is one of their highest security vaults Harry." Lily said softly, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. "Trust me; you don't want to set off the guard." Harry looked at her in confusion as the goblins muffled voice came faintly from ahead. Those watching him saw the goblin straighten and turn back to face them.

"You may enter." He called as he scooped up something from a bowl to one side.

The group entered… only to freeze in shock when they exited the corridor. Where the goblin was stood there was a chamber bigger than Hogwarts Great Hall, with a gold inlaid door on the far side, which had the Potter Crest clearly defined on it. But what drew the eye – and stole their breath – was the strange dragon that was between them and it.

From what Harry could see, this was unlike the Horntail he'd tangled with in Fourth Year. This dragon was mostly a barrel-like body and a long, spiked tail. The wings appeared to have been clipped, but that was a secondary concern. What was of concern was the 'front' end of the body. The dragon had no visible neck or separate head. Instead the head and body appeared to have unified into one… and the whole front end appeared to be able to open up into one massive, round mouth capable of swallowing the Hogwarts Express without the locomotive touching the sides. Two small legs held the body off the ground, while a pair of burly goblins pulled on chains to draw the beast to one side.

"Please wait until the Thunderdrum's handlers give the all clear before you advance." Like any of them were going to go near something like that!

Once the tail had gone from their sight they all moved as a group to the doors. Their goblin guide approached with… with the vault key in his hand once more. Harry frowned then looked back at the other door they had entered through. It had closed behind them. The thought of being trapped in this place with that dragon had him swallowing nervously as the goblin inserted the key into a more standard lock on the door, which must be the actual vault door. At last the vault opened, and the goblin stepped to one side, allowing them to see within.

Harry slowly walked in, jaw hanging low. The vault was way larger than his trust vault. It was divided into two regions. To the left were several great mounds of coins, nearly all golden Galleons. It was a stunning amount of coinage. Harry stared at the great mounds for a moment, his mind boggling. He'd once heard that it was possible to be so rich that money became irreverent. Now, he saw the proof. He didn't know just how much there was there… and right now, he couldn't process it. Shutting the image from his mind, he turned to regard the other wall.

The area to the right had an eclectic mix of items in no discernable order or groupings. It was as if people had just dumped stuff down wherever they could find room. A set of shelves were along the wall itself, with books, ornaments and other curios intermingled along them. The floor had chests, boxes, trunks of items mixed in with may free standing items. Most, if not all, looked to be in good, if worn and old, condition. Clearly, the Potters of Old had use the Vault as storage space for items that were not needed often or of extreme value. The near end of the shelves however ended in a set of cabinets, and this area was a little tidier. Just inside the vault door were half a dozen large, bulky looking trunks, latched closed.

The goblin assistant stepped inside, resting one hand on the trunks. "Lady Potter, after the attack on yourself and Lord Potter, Gringotts employees, under charter from the remain household of House Potter, collected everything of note from the cottage in Godric's Hollow. Personal effects, clothing, it is all here. Anything that was significantly damaged is in the lower two trunks."

Lily sighed as she stepped forwards, laying one hand on the trunks. "My thanks… for doing that." A sniff escaped her composure. The pain of losing James was still sharp within her heart. While for everyone else around her he had been gone nearly fifteen years, for her… Time had had very little meaning to her while she'd been a passenger in Harry's head. The event of that Halloween was still in recent memory. Pushing aside the grief and pain, she slowly straightened. "Over here Harry." She said softly, stepping towards the cabinets. Curious, the girls followed the pair of them.

Lily opened the doors reverently, to reveal a stack of shallow trays. Glints of light came from the narrow spaces between each one. Running a finger down the stack Lily nodded before taking a grip of one and pulling.

The girls all gasped together. For as she drew the tray out dozens upon dozens of gleaming rings were revealed, all gleaming precious metals and gemstones. Gold, silver, bronze, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, emeralds… just about any kind of precious metal or gem was in there somewhere. The tray was fully extracted now, halting before swinging down to about thirty degrees, allowing them all to look over the entire collection with ease. And what a collection! Daphne's eyes were threatening to fall out of her head as she mentally tried to calculate the net value of everything she could see before her.

"From what James told me, it has been a tradition that the next Lady Potter would first look over the Family collection for her engagement and wedding rings. If nothing struck her fancy, then a new set was made." Lily explained, a small smile on her lips. "When that Lady passed on, the rings were added to the collection, to await another's hand."

Harry, amazed and bewildered, allowed his eyes roam over the contents… and paused when he saw there was a gap. The rows were set out in sets. A single ring was to the far left, then a pair of plain, but matching rings together, then a number of rings more ornate than the pair, but less than the singular one on the far left. The gap he saw was missing the lonely, singular ring and the pair. "Mum… there's a couple missing." He said softly.

Lily took a long moment to reply, prompting all of them to look at her. The expression on her face was clearly one of grief and pain. "No Harry, they're not missing… just, in use." She answered softly. Slowly she lifted her hand from a pocket on her dress. A plain band of intermingled gold and silver was held between her fingertips as she set it down into the space were the pair would have been. A tear ran down her check as she stilled, before bringing her other hand up. She stared at her left hand… at her left ring finger Susan realised. Then with a sob she brought her right hand down and closed it around that finger…

It was then Harry realised what his mother was doing. As quick as he was during a Quidditch match his hand shot out and covered her own, halting her progress to remove the wedding band and engagement ring from her finger. Stilled, she looked at him, the query plain in her grief filled eyes.

"Keep them on mum. They belong to you now." Harry said softly. "They belong there." Slowly he reached out with his free hand and picked up the other half of the wedding bands. A small shiver ran down his back as he did so, the knowledge that this had been his father's flirting across his mind. He offered it to his mum. "I may not know much about him, but I'm sure he would have wanted you to keep this with you always."

Lily looked between him and the ring he still held out, before smiling softly. Once he lifted his hand away, Lily stopped trying to remove the rings already on her hand and took back the other wedding band. For several seconds she looked at the plain, unadorned band of metal, before clasping it in her hand tightly, eyes closing as more tears tracked down her cheeks.

Hermione looked between the elder witch and the still open tray. "Come on, let's leave this for another day…"

Lily visibly pulled herself together. "No… it's all right. You should do this now." She waved her and the others forward.

All four young women were allowing their eyes to wander over the rows of rings, the gleaming gems reflecting in their eyes. It was Fleur who asked the question that they were all thinking. "Thesse… 'ther rings. What are they for?" Her hand waved over the more numerous rings in each row.

Lily chuckled as she tucked James wedding band away once more. "Consort rings, to match the lady's." Was all she said.

The four looked at each other, eyes connecting. Of course, now that it had been stated it seemed obvious. But Hermione began to feel guilty. She'd already picked out the ring that she would have chosen, but she knew that her choice would not be the other's choice. And the Consort rings were a lot plainer than the Lady's. Had could she force her choice on the others? They each had different builds, looks, personalities… what would look good on her would not always look good on the others.

Harry however was frowning. This system implied that the Lady was above the consorts. In a way that was true, but to Harry, it was also unacceptable.

"You mentioned getting new sets made mum…" He asked slowly.

Lily nodded, her eyes sharpening. "What are you thinking of Harry?"

Harry looked between the rings and the four young women that were already dear to his heart. He knew that the original three had planned for everything to be equal between them… and he expected that they would extend that offer to Fleur and the future Lady Black. For him, there was only one course that fitted… "Each of you, pick your own engagement ring." He said slowly, stepping to one side. "And later, we'll have a set of six identical wedding rings made."

All four beamed happily at him, then wrapped him in a tight group hug. Harry's face turned scarlet as he was enveloped in warm, soft female figures. Fleur placed a kiss to his forehead before the hug broke up, the four of them crowding round the tray.

Lily smiled as she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Very noble of you Harry." She said softly. He looked back her warmly, seeing the approval in her eyes.

"Er… Harry?" Hermione called them both over. They saw that while she had a ring in her grasp, it was not coming away from the tray. Stuck.

"Sorry. Only a Potter can remove the rings."

Harry sighed before stepped between Hermione and Fleur. Tracing the oldest witches arm first, he gently lifted the ring from its slot. The fine silvery ring was light and airy, with a central pearl flanked by diamonds. He turned to the French beauty.

"Fleur… I know that we don't know each other that well, but what I do know is that you are much, much more than what others see. You are more than a beautiful woman. You have strength all of your own." He held up the ring between his fingers. "I don't fully understand the forces that have bound us together, but maybe, just maybe, this is Fates way of making up for all the hardships I've had to suffer." He now looked into her blue-grey eyes. "Will you be my wife-consort?"

Fleur smiled. "Oui, Harry." She replied as she held out her left hand, fingers spread. Once he had slid the ring onto her finger she leaned forwards and kissed him fully, throwing everything she had into it. Harry was frozen as he felt the passion that the older witch was feeling, and staggered for a moment when she finally released him, prompting a musical giggle to escape her lips.

After a couple of moments to regain his balance Harry turned and pulled out the next ring down, the one Susan had selected. He turned to the buxom red-head. "Susan, I saw during our DA sessions that you worked hard, but never allowed others to fall behind. Since then I've learned about your humour, your courage and steadfastness. In the fights ahead, I know that with you by my side, our chances have jumped from slim to good." As she was already holding her hand out, he just smiled and slid the ring, with its central ruby gem gleaming, onto her finger.

The darker gold ring with a blazing sapphire was next. "Daphne, I regret that we never had a chance to talk in all the years until now. For you are truly one of a kind. Grace and intellect. You risked everything to help me. I could not ask for more."

Finally he turned to Hermione. "You've always been at my side, helping me, encouraging me. Not once have you faltered in you support, your devotion. I was blind to not see that which was beside me all this time." He dropped to one knee, ring raised. 'Hermione…'

"Oh just put it on already Harry. You already know my answer." Hermione cut him off gently, a warm, happy smile on her lips.

Once the emerald in its setting of pale gold was on her finger Harry looked between the four them. "I know that what we have here is… strange. Maybe be even uncomfortable right now." The way he shifted as he said this revealed that he certainly was. They all nodded slowly; each knew that not everyone was totally happy with this multi-marriage. Hermione for instance knew her parents were deeply worried that she would be either lost in the group or would be favoured, thus causing resentment in the others. They had buried those fears and feelings, for her sake and Harry's, but Hermione could just tell what they were thinking. Susan and her aunt had resigned themselves to a situation like this years ago, as had Daphne and her family, but both had always hoped to be a singular wife, not one of many. Fleur knew that her parents would not be pleased at all; her papa had not been pleased that she'd fallen for an English wizard. Her mother, who as a half-veela herself understood that side of her, had also been upset, though Fleur suspected it had more to do with having Mrs Weasley as an in-law than anything else.

Oblivious to their thoughts, Harry pressed on. "The way my life has been, I fear there will be many rough patches ahead. But… I want us all to go through them together. No matter what happens, we stand by each other. All happy."

Daphne smiled. "That is so incredibly naïve Harry."

"But so very romantic." Susan chipped in.

"Leave it to us Harry." Hermione said softly. "You focus on just being you, and we'll handle the rest."

Lily smiled at the group hug that followed, allowing a tear to run down her cheek. Her boy, so long without love or companionship, was finally getting everything that he was owed.

* * *

**A/N: **And there we have it. Next time: The Dark Lord acts, and Draco bleeds... Oh, and we have an insight in the Potter Family history... Till then!


	28. The Dark Lord Strikes Back

**A/N:** New chapter time! Now fair warnings: we've going to be wandering into darker territory for the next couple of chapters. And I'm afraid this chapter ends on a cliffe... again. Sorry, but that's the way the story fell. Though those of you who wanted to see Draco bleed should enjoy the first scene... (*evil grin*)

* * *

Voldemort watched closely as the young Draco Malfoy walked into his presence. There was a nervous air about him… a sense of dread?

"Well, young Draco?" He asked as Draco kneeled before him. "Are you ready to pledge the wealth of the Black Family to my cause?"

Draco, on his knees, swallowed nervously, terrified. "My Lord, I… I can not."

Voldemort went very still, only his eyes narrowing showed sign of life. Beside him, Lucius nervously looked between him and his son. What was Draco up to?

"You had best explain. Now." Voldemort half-whispered, his fingers already around his wand.

"The Blood-Traitor Black, he tricked us all!" Draco cried out in a panic. "He left everything to Potter!"

"WHAT?" Voldemort roared, standing up sharply. Coiled around the throne his familiar Nagini hissed menacingly. "Lucius… you assured me that your son would inherit…" The menace in his tone was clear.

Lucius dropped to his knees in an instant. "My Lord, it should have! There are no other Blacks!"

Draco licked dry lips before nervously speaking. "In his will, the traitor said to look at the Black Family Tree. He said Potter has a link via his grandmother, Dorea Black."

Voldemort slowly turned to face Lucius, features tight with rage. "You narrow minded fool. _Crucio!_"

Lucius flailed about for several minutes as his lord held him under the torture curse, the sickly light reflected in Voldemort's eyes as his teeth bared themselves in his anger. At last he lifted the curse, breathing heavily as he did, but the rage in his blood red eyes was undiminished. He turned to face Draco…

It was at this moment that another Death Eater almost ran into the chamber. He pulled up short at the sight before him, but his arrival had already been noted. "You had better have a good reason for this interruption Yaxley." Voldemort snarled, his fingers trailing up and down his wand, a clear threat.

Yaxley gulped before stepping forwards to kneel at Voldemorts feet. He'd rushed over as soon as he could, once he saw the contracts and alliances that had been filed that morning. He doubted that many others had noticed; most wizards were too concerned with their own hides right now to notice any extra parchment in the files. "My Lord, I have troubling news in regard to Potter."

"Speak." It came out more like a hiss than normal words.

"Potter has submitted to the Ministry several contracts." Yaxley had to take another deep breath before pressing on. "He has formed a multi-House Alliance between Potter, Black, Longbottom, Bones and Greengrass Houses. Also, Consort contracts have been made out between himself and both Miss Bones and the eldest Miss Greengrass, along with a Betrothal contract for a Miss Granger."

Voldemort normally kept most of his rage bottled up, only releasing it through his voice and his wand. Right now though he was shaking in total fury. "Why did no one take steps to prevent this? _Crucio_!"

Draco, still on his knees next to the now thrashing Yaxley, was desperate to vanish through the floor, or anywhere really. He really didn't want to remain here! However, he had not been excused, so he had to stay… or suffer the Dark Lord's wrath.

Voldemort was still snarling as he lifted the curse from his main Ministry spy. "This can not be allowed! Potter is trying to move against us…"

"If I may…" A rough, cold voice came from one side, from the deep shadows to Voldemort's left. "May I suggest a pre-emptive strike, Lord Voldemort?" Out of the corner of his eye Draco saw the lean, forbidding form of Major Greengrass step forward. His black uniform made into a spectre of Death itself. "Together, those Houses may be enough to oppose you, but each on their own…" He trailed off, the meaning clear.

Voldemort spun around to snap at him, punish him for interrupting, but then the Magi-SS officer's words reached his brain and he paused, considering. Such tactical thinking was just what he'd struck this alliance for, why he'd agreed to the old man's requests. Not that they were too hard to bear… even if he had intended to honour them all. He tapped the side of his wand for a moment before slowly nodding.

"Yes… excellent idea Major. We'll cut his allies away before he can get them organised!" Reaching down he yanked up Yaxley's sleeve before jabbing his wand tip to the Dark Mark now exposed. Reaching within himself, he mentally sent out his summons, ordering his minions to gather, at once. More than a hint of his anger bled through, alerting them of what would await them if they kept him waiting.

Within minutes all his remaining free Death Eaters had gathered, all on one knee before him, heads bowed as was proper. Behind them the men of Major Greengrasses advance force filled in, having followed the marked men. Even without their uniforms and weapons, each one of the eight men were intimidating, menacing sights. There was a lethal coldness about each one that hung over them like a shroud, their faces expressionless, eyes lacking any warmth or shred of compassion. Looking over his followers, Voldemort began to plan.

"Snape! You had better have acquired the details I required from you!" He did not have to spell out what would happen if the potions master had not: the threat was clear in every syllable.

Severus Snape stood before moving forwards, drawing a sheet of parchment from his robes. "Of course my Lord. The Headmaster trusts me implicitly. I had no trouble getting the details for all those who Potter might seek aid from, or considers his friends." He said oily as he offered the parchment to his master.

Voldemort nodded absently as he looked over the list. Nine names were listed, of which eight had an address written. The last was 'Unknown'… not that surprising really, as they had already destroyed that families home.

"Very well. With Potter cut off from us…"

"My pardon, Lord Voldemort…" Greengrass cut in smoothly. Several of the Death Eaters gasped: _no-one_ interrupted the Dark Lord unless they had a death wish. "…But why is Potters summer residence unreachable?"

Voldemort snarled, irritated at the intrusion, but realising that the older man was not yet up to speed on all the details. "That meddling fool Dumbledore set wands around the property when he first took Potter there. Those wards are based on the protection he got from his mothers sacrifice."

Draco perked up. "My Lord…" He begun, but never finished.

"_CRUCIO_!" Voldemort yelled, turning his wand on the young man before him. "Keep that mouth of yours shut! Don't think that I have forgotten that it was your actions that have strengthened Potter, made him form the alliances he has!"

Draco had never experienced pain like this before. Every nerve seemed aflame as the curse lashed down onto him. After a time – he could not keep track, such was the pain – the curse was lifted, and Voldemort returned his attention to Greengrass.

"That protection means that neither I nor any of my marked followers can get near him while he is there. We know where he is, but no attempts to reach the boy have worked!"

Greengrass nodded slowly. "I see. But I recall a pair of Dementors did last summer."

Voldemort hissed angrily. "Useless! He's already proved that he can drive them off easily!"

A narrow, cold smile formed on Greengrasses lips. "I was not going to suggest them Lord Voldemort. I was thinking more of having _my_ men make an attempt to reach him. We can kill anyone from beyond the property line if needed, including him. If you allow me to handle my _brother__'__s_…" for the first time emotion was distinguishable in the mans voice. "…Family. It is, an old debt to be settled."

Voldemort locked gazes with the old wizard. He did not like Greengrasses attitude at all. There was no subservience, and he questioned all the time. However… balancing that was his clear competence and insight. It was refreshing after all the dunderheaded inbred idiots he normally dealt with.

That and the man was genuinely scary to be around. Not that Voldemort felt fear. It was clear to him that Major Greengrass was a lot like Dumbledore in his strength: Skill and Knowledge, rather than raw Power like himself. If it came down to it, Voldemort could simply overpower the old man. It was the stories told to the others that made him so dangerous. Tales that had gotten more extreme with each re-telling, till each 'Storm-Wizard' could kill an entire army will a glare.

But his effect on his followers was amusing.

"You think your men can do what my Death Eaters can't?"

Major Greengrass smirked lightly. "Let's call it testing a hunch I have. At the worst, my men will not be able to reach him… and will withdraw."

Voldemort nodded slowly. "Very well, you may make the attempt… but not tonight. I want him to suffer first. Suffer the loss of more of his allies, more of his 'friends'. We'll attack his home another night. But understand: I want Potter alive and brought before me!"

Greengrass bowed. "But of course, Lord Voldemort. Do you want him undamaged, or is a little hurt acceptable?"

Voldemort smirked, a very nasty expression on his inhuman face. "Alive is all I need. Crippled… is acceptable, as long as his face is identifiable. The Greengrass family…" His smirk widened a little more as Major Greengrass tensed, a dark expression passing over his features. "…Do what you like with the elders, but the daughters should be brought back here, alive and unharmed, physically anyway."

The former Magi-SS officer smiled evilly as Voldemort turned back to face his still kneeling Death Eaters.

"Yaxley, return to the Ministry with our other agents. Shut down the targets floos, and divert any alerts."

Yaxley nodded his head, understanding his role. It was something he'd done many times before, and his team had gotten very good at doing it quietly.

Voldemort looked over the list before him once more. He had instructed Snape to pull the addresses of any students that Potter considered friends, or spent time with. Along with the other two members of the so-called 'Golden Trio', the list included the Gryffindor Chaser Katie Bell, only just seventeen and would begin her seventh year come September. Both the Bones and Greengrass names were listed, but as the Bones family manor was destroyed, they could not attack them again. The other two who went the Ministry with Potter – the Longbottom brat and the Lovegood tart – were listed, as were the blood traitorous Tonks. The Lovegoods were also the owners and publishers of the _Quibbler_, and he had not forgotten what that paper had done…

"Mason, form the Dementors into two groups. One will attack the Longbottoms, the other the Weasleys." As the former senior guard of Azkaban nodded Draco smirked. At last those pathetic weasels would be gone!

"Dougal, take team four and attack the Bells. You can have some fun with the muggles, but ensure you that you either kill or capture the mudblood.

"Davidson, take teams three and five. Your target is the Tonks. Make certain to kill the blood traitor, and capture her half-blood offspring if she arrives. A trained Auror will be most welcome in our ranks. If she doesn't turn…" Behind their masks several Death Eaters smirked evilly.

"Jugson, team two. Bring that abomination that is the Lovegood's home to the ground. Make sure their printing press is totally destroyed. A half-dozen Dementors will be at your disposal as well. Once you have destroyed the building and killed the adult, have the child portkeyed back here while you assist Nott with team six in his attack on the Weasleys. That shack they call a house should burn nicely. Especially if they are all still inside." He paused for a moment, considering. "If you get the chance, take the girl captive and bring her back. I so very much want to meet she who nearly brought me back four years ago.

"Corran, teams seven and eight. Burn Longbottom Manor, and its residents, to the ground. Let the Dementors lead, to soften them up. Remember: Augusta Longbottom many be old, but she's still dangerous. And the boy… Don't underestimate him.

"Bellatrix, you will take…" Voldemort trailed off as he looked over the kneeling Death Eaters. Normally it was very easy to pick Bellatrix out, since she eschewed the thick, all covering robes the others wore and often went without her mask either. Plus she was likely as not kneeling right at his very feet. But now he couldn't see his most fanatical follower anywhere in the gathered group.

"Where is Bellatrix?" He asked quietly.

The various kneeling Death Eaters looked about, but none spoke. Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he lowered them to the now shivering Draco Malfoy.

"Draco… where is Bella? She was with you at the will reading?" He asked softly.

"Draco swallowed nervously. "Yes, she was."

The Dark Lord's voice dropped to nearly a whisper… but one that carried deadly menace. "Then where did she go when you came back?"

Draco shuddered. "My Lord, I… I was forced to leave before she did." There was no way he was going to admit to having been carried out by a security troll, with piss dripping off one shoe, while _the__entire_ bank Floor looked on. Or when he was dumped in the street outside, the goblins had the _gall_ to announce to Diagon Alley as a whole the edict set down by the High King… along with the High King's reasons. Eyes had followed him the whole way back to the Leaky Cauldron, with laughter following on his heels. They would all pay, every last one of them!

Voldemort sank back into his throne, a wave of resignation sweeping over him. _'__Of __course, __little __snot-nosed __brat __obviously __shot __his __mouth __off__…'_ But then an alarming thought came to him, causing his eyes to widen. _'__Why__ did __she __not__ respond __to __my __call?__'_ Moving swiftly, he jabbed his wand into Yaxley's Dark Mark once more, focusing his will on summoning Bellatrix LeStrange. Heedless of Yaxley's moans of pain, he reached out with his formidable mind, searching.

There was no reply. Not even a presence.

'_Could__ Potter __have __killed __her? __The __Goblins __maybe? __But __why? __There__'__s __no __way __they __could __have __learned __about __my__ horcrux__… __But __if __it __emerged__ she __was __the __one __who __killed __the __Blood __Traitor __Black__…'_ The Goblins were known for violent retribution…

This was most troubling, but he had to adapt. "Lucius, you will make amends for your mistakes. Team one, and you will be attacking Potter biggest supporter, the _muggle_ Grangers." A dark look entered Voldemort's eyes. "I want the entrails of that mudblood's family all over that house! Make it clear it clear who did this, and why!"

"And the Mudblood herself?" Lucius asked, an eager note in his voice.

"She will serve as an abject lesson to those who defy me! Her punishment must be brutal, total! Greyback, I'm putting this task in your hands. Remember, I want her to suffer. Draw it out. Break her in every way you can. Once you've destroyed her mind, spirit and soul, then you may feast. Sake ALL your desires and lusts on her… and be sure to get a recording of it all. It'll make a nice present for Potter."

The brutal werewolf grinned cruelly, eager to have a taste of virgin flesh. He was looking forward to having some time alone with a young female. Their flesh was the most succulent. Perhaps, with a little judicious magic, she might be of use to him and bear him a litter before he consumed her? Maybe as the final stage of breaking her, forcing her to bare his pups? It was something to consider… his trousers were already tightening at the thought!

"My Lord! That mud…"

"_CRUCIO! _Silence whelp!" Voldemort cut Draco off with another curse. "As for you… you have failed me… and you still _do__ not __learn_!" He levelled his wand slowly, murder in his eyes.

Lucius took a half step forwards. "My Lord!"

The bone-handled wand jumped to point between his eyes. "You dare challenge me?" Voldemort roared, his rage clear to all. "Your son is weak, Lucius, pathetic! Now he will suffer the consequences!"

"Yes, he should…" Greengrass stalked forwards, his cape billowing behind him. "But a quick, painless death is too good for the likes of this." His hand waved over the cowering form of Draco.

Voldemort gritted his teeth as he closed his eyes, reigning in his desire to curse the old man. While it would stop these most annoying interruptions, the other eight were still armed in some fashion he was sure, and right now he had need of the Magi-SS officer. However… he did have a point. "What are you suggesting them?"

Greengrass smirked as he turned to face towards Voldemort. "Stand up you snivelling little worm! Take your punishment like a man, young Mister Malfoy." He said in a clear voice, as his hand moved to the pistol holster at his waist, the motion hidden from all but Voldemort by his body.

Draco slowly stood, fearful of what this _foreigner_had in mind. Of course, it couldn't be as bad as anything that the Dark Lord could come up with. He was _foreign,_ after all. Rapidly his mind raced over all the dark curses he'd heard or read about as Greengrass turned to face him…

The gunshot cut off his thoughts as everyone else, aside from the Storm-Wizards at the back, jumped in shock at the thunderous sound. Draco himself staggered backwards, both hands pressed to his stomach as he doubled over, his face a picture of horrific pain. Red blood ran over his fingers and dripped to the floor as his legs gave out and he sank to his knees. As the pool began to spread he managed to lift his head to look up at Greengrass, who was in the last motions of holstering his pistol.

"You do not deserve a clean, wizard's death." Contempt and disgust filled the old man's tone. "Die like a muggle, worm." He finished as Draco fell to the floor, landing on his side, his blood spreading outward from his belly.

Snape almost jumped forwards, skidding on his knees over the stone floor as he reached the dieing youth. He drew his wand…

"Snape… do you wish to share his fate?" Voldemort asked quietly, freezing the potions master. The 'snap' of Greengrass re-opening the flap of his holster echoed throughout the chamber.

Snape swallowed nervously. He knew his next few words could get him killed, for no fault of his own. "My Lord… I am bound by a Godfathers oath to do all I can to prevent his death."

Voldemort frowned, then looked at Lucius, who nodded nervously in reply to the unspoken question. "My wife insisted on it My Lord."

The Dark Lord sat back, pondering. This was… unexpected, and unwelcome. Still, the situation could be used to his advantage.

"Very well. Draco's fate now lies in your hands Snape. But if he fails me again… you will share his punishment." Voldemort said softly. At Snape's nod, he glared down at the unconscious young Malfoy. "Get that useless excuse of a boy out of my sight!"

Snape cast a general purpose healing charm on Draco, to stabilise him for the moment, but nothing happened. Frowning, he tried again, with the same result.

"You must treat him the muggle way, Potion Master." Greengrass commented, prompting a wide-eyed look of horror from Snape. "Magic won't work on him right now." And with that, and a twisted, cruel smirk the Magi-SS major stepped back, to stand at Voldemort's elbow. Shuddering, Snape tried to levitate the young boy, but even that failed. Cursing, he reluctantly gripped both of Draco's wrists before dragging him out of the chamber, drawing a long trail of blood behind him.

Voldemort smirked, and then looked over the other Death Eaters. Lightly brushing their minds, he could feel the terror they all felt. His smirk deepened, knowing how he could use that to make them work better. "Gather your teams. Strike tonight!"

* * *

Tracy sighed as she looked down at the parchment on her desk, before glancing at the Daily Prophet. It had taken her a couple of days to calm down and focus after her talk with her father. Once she'd had, she had gone through list after list of possible young men, trying to decide who to approach. Tracy was under no illusions regarding herself: she knew she was not the classic beauty that Daphne was. She wasn't even that attractive. 'Plain' was about the best she could label herself as. She was no Bulstrode, but most boys skipped over her in favour of others. It had been of benefit, as she had managed to evade the claws of the Junior Death Eaters and their sick activities by not advertising her femininity. Sticking close to Daphne had also helped. Few of those pigs dared cross her.

However… her current situation was, delicate. Tracy was not blind to reality: The best she could really hope for was 'Consort' status, maybe even second wife. The chances of finding a young man willing to give up his family name were almost non-existent. Ideally, he had to come from a strong, rich, magical family, or an even richer muggle one. They had to be, as they had to outbid the Nott's for her hand. And then there was the threat of reprisals… She had been forced to cross a number of names off her first lists when she considered that aspect. None of those families had the power to laugh at threats or the money to buy the Death Eaters off. Not for her.

But today… something had emerged in the relatively tiny 'Family Announcements' section of the Profit. Most would have missed it: her father and brother both had. But Tracy had been studying that section, her problem in mind. There, tucked into one corner, was an announcement that the Potter, Bones, Longbottom, Greengrass _and_Black families had signed a formal alliance for mutual support, defence and trade. She had actually frozen for several seconds, eye's widening at the lines. Those five families, in the same alliance? It was almost unheard of! Without the Black Family, it would have been less noteworthy, but the inclusion of such a 'Dark' family… Even the Greengrasses were seen as 'Dark', though Tracy knew that that wasn't the case after knowing Daphne for the last five years.

Seeing that little note, Tracy's mind had begun to whirl, piecing together facts and rumours to build a complete theory. Sirius Black had been Harry Potter's Godfather, but had also been the last Black aside from his cousins who had married into other families. As such, he was the de-facto head of House Black until his death. She'd also heard that he had not been the murdering traitor that everyone thought he was. In fact he loved Harry like his own son. Slowly, almost dreading the result, she'd looked at the public information concerning the Potter and Black families.

Each on their own was more than wealthy enough to outbid the Notts a thousand times over, even with the Blacks falling from grace. The Black Family, as a known 'Dark' Family, would not be questioned by the Notts, while only a fool challenged the Potters… until Voldemort.

Both had suffered in the last couple of decades. The Potter's history was one of standing against all darkness… something that Harry appeared to be doing already. But the Families political might was all but gone, as he _was_the only Potter. And the future of the Blacks was in doubt, as she clearly remembered Draco boasting that soon _he_ would be 'Lord Black'.

But this… this suggested that _Harry_ was somehow Lord Black; it was the only thing that made sense of the joining of the two families together. And if that were true… it opened up an option for Tracy…

Recalling the events of the end of term, she'd looked at the three girls. Hermione, his closest friend, confidant and supporter, would clearly become the next Lady Potter. Only a fool would believe otherwise. Susan Bones, she knew, would have to become a Consort to maintain her family line. The question was Daphne. Would she be a consort or Lady Black? Daphne had always been evasive regarding her dream marriage…

Nevertheless, this was a chance she had to grab. Having Daphne already in there gave her a foot in the door. Either Lady Black or Consort to either family would save her. Question was, how to ask for such? Tracy paused for a moment. If the response was the one she needed, what then? Could she love Harry Potter? It was all too easy to love the _idea_ of being Harry Potter's wife, but could she really do it? Could she love for the boy… man, behind the name? It was something she had to think about further. Hopefully Daphne would help her… and maybe, if she spent some time around him, it would be easier than she feared.

Tracy sighed again as she drew a new sheet of parchment out and re-inked her quill. She had a letter to write… one that she had to get right. This was far, far more important than any homework… her future literally depended on it.

* * *

Lily Potter smiled to herself as she looked down at her son, sat in the reading corner of the Library. Ever since he'd arrived here, he'd come to the Library for an hour or two each evening, sometimes alone, often with his future wives, to read up on the family history. The niche in which he sat was dedicated to the history of the Potter Family. A shelf ran around the huge alcove, on which the Potter Family Journals rested, dating back to the very founding of the Manor.

Of course, given that this was Potter Manor, calling that space an 'alcove' was a huge understatement. A large, marble surround fireplace was at the back, with a massive painting above it. The mantelpiece was at the same level as the shelves that held the journals. The one side had a massive oak four-seater sofa in the centre; with a pair of love-seats in the same style each side, in the corners. Another four-seater was across the space, with a third love-seat in the corner not visible to Lily.

Despite the size of the Alcove, it was tiny compared to the rest of the Library. It filled the entire ground floor of the Family Wing… and then more, as the door from the main hall opened onto a raised balcony that ran around most of the room. When the library had needed expanding, the Lord at the time had decided to be radical and expand _downwards_, rather than out or use expansion charms. Shelving filled with books lined the wall where the balcony ran, while wrought iron spiral stairs led down to the main floor, effectively at basement level. The walls were lined with bookshelves, broken only by paintings. While some natural light cam in from the two rows of windows either side on the upper floor, three chandeliers hung from the ceiling provided the bulk of the light, along with a number of small lamps on the reading tables that took up much of the space in the centre.

Lily's attention however was on her son. Though she knew him intimately – existing in his head for most of his life gave her an unmatchable insight into him – he barely knew her. And while that 'mother/son' bond was there, in some respects she was still a stranger to him. They had made progress over the last week, but there had been little time for simple mother/son interaction.

Down on the sofa Harry sighed to himself as he looked once more at the huge painting over the fireplace. _'__All__ my __life, __I __just __wanted__ to __be__ '__Normal__'__.__ I__ guess __I __was... __for __a __Potter, __that __is.__'_ The painting itself showed a magnificent sailing ship in motion, two rows of gun ports down the side under several towering spreads of canvas. The crashing of the waves under the prow with its golden winged horse was currently muted, a faint background noise… though Harry had been taught how to bring the volume up if he wished.

Harry, over the course of his evenings reading the Journals, had quickly discovered something about his family; Potters had always been… different. 'Normal' life and the Potters had rarely crossed.

He looked once more at the portrait in the book he held. The painting was of Richard Potter, his future wife Amelia… and his ship, the _Pegasus._ The same ship that now sailed over the fireplace. The Journal told how, after graduating Hogwarts at almost the top of his class, Richard Potter had spent the next three years working on cargo ships trading with the American Colonies. Then a pirate vessel had struck their ship, sending it to the bottom and killing most of the crew. On his return to England two months later, the young Potter approached the Royal Navy, and gained – in other words bought – a commission as a Privateer in service to the Crown. Using Potter funds, he had a vessel commissioned - a 'Fifth Rate' ship of forty-eight guns – and begun to recruit a crew from the Potter's usual sources. Within a year, he had a crew of nearly three hundred men, a third of which were magical, the rest squibs and muggles. The ship had been completed in seven months, but once now Captain Potter took command, he had sailed her to an isolated dock – ironically one owned by the Bones Family – where he and his magical crewmembers had charmed the hell out of the ship, increasing its internal space tenfold, strengthening the hull and a host of other enhancements. The journal had several pages showing the rune patterns that had been carved into not only the ships hull and masts, but also the array of cannons, swivel-guns and muskets that made up the armament. Harry had smiled at that, knowing that Hermione would find this fascinating.

Once equipped, Captain Potter had taken his ship to the Caribbean, where they had served twelve years in service to the British Crown. _Pegasus_ had gained a reputation as a fast ship, as she seemed to 'fly over the waves'. Harry suspected that magic had helped in _that_ regard.

It had been in that final year when Captain Potter had met Amelia Trestain, a half-French lady who had been captured by a pirate band when they took the ship she had been travelling to America on. The Pirates had gotten greedy however, and had lingered too long, squabbling over the disposition of the captives and cargo. The _Pegasus _had swept down on the gathered cluster of pirate brigs and sloops like some avenging angel. In the ensuring battle, half the pirate craft were sunk and the crew of the cargo vessel retook their ship, but the other pirates fled, taking the captives already aboard with them, including madam Trestain. The _Pegasus _had run them down, bottling them in an inlet on a small island. That night, under cover of darkness, Captain Potter had led his crew in a daring, simultaneous boarding action again all three pirate craft. They caught the pirates in exhausted sleep… mostly. The Pirate leader had decided to have some 'fun' with the captured lady. Richard Potter had burst through the door just in time, and proceeded to cut the drunken would-be rapist down in a brutal solo duel.

But the story didn't end with the dramatic rescue. Having fallen in love, and earned a rather large amount of prize money, Richard Potter returned home with his new bride… and carried on the tradition of altering the Manor grounds to reflect the Family history. A small river to the south of the main manor had been altered in the distant past to form a small lake before continuing on out of the manor. Richard Potter had extended the lake, forming a dogleg that ran between the manor building and a rocky outcrop to the west on which one of the ancient watchtowers stood. But what really did it was that he had the far bank dropped, using a modified shield ward to hold back the water, so from the manor the water just stopped. He then layered an illusion ward line out from the smaller spar that the Owl Tower sat on, then added area heating charms to the spur by the main building just below the Family wing, while the bank was finished in almost white sand. The result was that he had an inlet from the Caribbean recreated in the heart of England. He even had palm trees and Caribbean plants transplanted into the ground around the inlet, while the western rock outcrop had smaller nooks, a hidden miniature cove, and a small network of tunnels inside. His wife, apparently, loved it.

Harry had shaken his head when he reached that point, before his mind wandered to how Daphne, Susan and Hermione would look on such a beach… It made more sense then.

Even his grandfather Charlus had done something similar. The huge lawn to the south he'd used as a landing field for the Spitfire fighter that he'd flown during the Second World War. It was still resting in a purpose built hanger at the west end of the main building, just north of the Training Hall. Harry had ideally wondered how it compared to riding a broom…

The sounds of footsteps brought him out of his musing and his head up. His mom smiled at him as she made her way down the spiral stairs to the floor. She'd changed out of the formal clothes she'd worn to Gringotts into a plain pale cream set of trousers with a similarly coloured pullover top. She still wore heels he noticed as she stepped over to sit besides him.

"How do you feel Harry?" She asked softly. Harry smiled out of reflex. He loved hearing her voice. Before this week, he'd only ever heard her begging for his life or screaming. He wasn't sure he could count that time in the graveyard. "About everything that happened earlier?"

Harry sighed. "I'm… okay, I suppose…" At her look he felt compelled to elaborate. "I was not expecting the sisters or Fleur…"

"None of us were Harry." Lily said softly, understanding his distress. It had been quite the shock to her system too. Gently she rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm proud of the way you handled the Weasleys Harry. You showed great maturity."

Harry flushed. "You think so?" There was a childlike, desperate need to be complimented in his tone… though Lily knew he would deny it if asked. "Would dad…?"

Lily felt a surge of heartache run through her. "Yes, he would be proud of you too." She slid her arm across his shoulders to pull him into an embrace, one that soothed both their souls.

After a couple of minutes, she felt him shift beneath her arm. "Mum…" He half whispered before falling silent.

"What is it Harry dear?"

Harry shifted once more. "What about you? I mean, this thing I've got going with Hermione, Daphne and Susan… and now Fleur on top of that. It's… not normal at all. I mean…"

"I know what you mean Harry." Lily sighed. "I admit it's not ideal. Certainly not considered 'Normal'." She gave him a gentle squeeze. "But I look at it like this: I've gained four daughters. The Grangers take a similar view." Over the last week she'd spent a lot of time talking with the muggle couple, getting to know her new in-laws. As Emma had predicted, the two of them had gotten along extremely well, while Nathan was a little cool, but was warming quickly. She sighed once more before sharing a detail from before that Halloween. "James and I… we never planned on you being our only child."

Harry looked up at her, eyes wide in astonishment, though there was a hint of pain at the corners. A hint that touched Lily's heart, as she felt the pain of loosing her husband afresh.

"Don't fret about it Harry. I'm not ready to be a grandmother yet…" She smiled at the blush that filled his face. "…But don't let me stop you seeking happiness."

Harry smiled in reply, a grin that started to threaten to split his face.

"_**INCOMING **__**FLOO!**__**"**_ Raynor's voice roared out, startling them both. After a moment Harry shot up and ran for the steps, the book forgotten on the sofa, Lily right behind them.

Emerging out into the main hall, they saw the others present at Potter Manor approaching. Harry swung round the bottom of the stairs to face the grand fireplace, the 'public' floo address. The flames were already green, but dark shadows, like bars, were imposed over them. Between the central two the face of an older man appeared.

"Mister Potter! Please, let us through!" At that moment Tonks skidded to a halt besides Harry, almost falling flat on her face as she did.

"Dad?" She gasped, jaw hanging down.

"Nym, we're under attack from Death Eaters! Your mum's holding them off for now, but…"

Harry's instincts leapt forwards. "Raynor, let them through!" He yelled. Almost instantly the shadowy bars vanished. Tonks' father's head vanished for a few moments, likely yelling to Andromeda that the way was clear before he came tumbling through, falling flat on his face before them.

"Dad!" Tonks yelled before almost falling on him. Remus stepped forwards and helped the older man onto his feet. "Where's mum?"

Ted Tonks turned to look at the fireplace. "She should be right behind…" He paused when the flames turned green once more before Andromeda Tonks nee Black stepped sharply out of them, wand in hand. Her hair was a little dishevelled, but there was no sigh of injury to her.

Just as her foot was emerging from the floo the flames suddenly turned a natural colour, prompting the elder witch to yelp as she half jumped, half hopped forwards. Her husband was with her in seconds, helping her stand as she balanced on one foot, the other held off the ground while a look of pain creases her features. A tiny thread of smoke rose from the heel of her shoe.

Harry looked at the fire in worried confusion. "That's not meant to happen is it?"

Amelia stepped forwards, a frown on her face. "No, it shouldn't. The only way it could possibly happen is if…" Her face paled. "…if the connection was cut."

"How?" Hermione asked.

"Somehow, Death Eaters at the Ministry must have gained control of the Floo network." Lily stated with an apologetic look at Amelia. "I'm just saying what we all know is true. They did it before you know, in the last war. Cut the connection, to prevent families from escaping. Usually several at once."

A nameless, un-definable fear had been building in Harry's gut. With his mothers words, that fear bloomed into something he recognised. Darting forwards, he grabbed the pot of floo powder that rested in a little niche by the fireplace before tossing a handful into the flames.

"Greengrass Manor!" He yelled. The flames remained a cheerful yellow-red.

"Longbottom Manor! The Burrow!"

There was no reaction each time. Harry turned to look back at the others; his expression mirrored on the others fearful faces. After a moment however Amelia shifted mental gears, allowing her role as head of the DMLE to come to the fore. "I need to get to the Ministry, organise a response…" She said firmly, stepping forwards. "Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement!"

The flames turned a reassuring emerald green. Amelia stepped into them and vanished.

Harry stepped back, thoughts troubled. Voldemort appeared to be targeting his friends… A sudden, terrible thought came to him, and he looked towards Hermione. No words were needed: one look into his eyes and she knew what he was thinking.

"No..." She started to tremble. "No Harry… not my parents…" A tear began to roll down her cheek.

Three quick strides and Harry enfolded his oldest and best friend in a hug. Susan moved up behind her, keeping the now crying young woman between them. He looked towards the adults. "Remus, Tonks. Could you…"

They nodded before he even finished, already in motion towards the exit. Lily watched them go, envious. She would have gone, but her magic was still erratic. She would be a liability in a fight right now.

But… she could still get a warning out. "Winky!" She called, and the little house elf appeared before her. It had been on Monday evening, after her 'resurrection' that Harry's elf Dobby – looking almost like an elf version of superman now – had brought the nearly comatose female elf before them. He'd carried her bridle-style, her arms hanging loose. She seemed to perk up a bit after a few moments; there was plenty of ambient magic in the air at Potter Manor. But what really had gotten her attention was the offer of becoming part of the Potter Family. Lily, as the current de-facto head of the Family, had sworn her into the family: Harry had taken Dobby in as his Personal elf, to bind Winky to the family as a whole he'd would have had to have waited until his birthday. Until she got her strength back, Winky was acting as Lily's personal elf. It had sparked a lot of amusement when the pair of them had almost fainted with ear-to-ear open jawed grins when they were shown the scale of Potter Manor.

"Yes Mistress?" Winky asked, full of life and vigour once more, dressed in a neat elf-sized version of the maids outfit that Mrs Van Dort wore. Lily grimaced slightly at the form of address, but put aside her issues with that for now. There were much more urgent matters at hand.

"Winky, I need you to go to various families and warn them of a possible, probable Death Eater attack. The Greengrasses, the Lovegoods, the Longbottoms… and the Weasleys." She had hesitated over adding the last name, given the bad blood between herself and Molly Weasley. But… she knew that Harry was close to several members of the redheaded family… and they had helped him in the past, despite the motives of the mother.

"Yes Mistress." Winky curtsied before vanishing.

Harry also watched, feeling torn in two. His gut instinct was to head out, confront those cowardly Death Eaters and rain ruin on them for daring to try to harm his friends and family. But he knew right now Hermione needed him more, to comfort and reassure her. Besides, he was still underage; he could not afford another black mark with the ministry. Once he was sixteen, he could take up his dual Lordship, and that would not only free him of the underage magic restriction, but allow him to legally put his friend's families under his protection, granting him the legal right to use whatever means he deemed necessary to defend them. Biting back his frustration, he focused his attention on the young woman in his arms.

"They'll be all right Hermione. It'll be all right…"

* * *

Amelia stormed out of the floo straight into the Auror department... and scowled at the sight. There were only three Auror's in, and they were gathered round a table playing cards. Not one of them looked the least bit concerned.

Responding to her thoughts her wand shot out of her forearm holster into her hand, while her other hand slammed onto a rune plate embedded into the wall by the door. The rune, detecting her magical signature, activated, sending out a magical signal to all the servant runes engraved into every active Auror badge. The Alert Rune had been an idea Amelia had seen in the muggle world, and she had fought long and hard to get the idea copied into theirs.

The reactions of the three drowsy Aurors would, in any other circumstance, have been amusing. But the situation was too serious for Amelia to find any in the sight of three fully grown men jumping up like scalded cats. They turned about in confusion before seeing her glaring at them.

"Hodges, get down to the Floo Control Room: someone's cut off several families from the network. Tell me who and get those floos open once more!" Her gaze shifted to the next man. "Danes, watch the Monitor; look for any magic used in muggle areas." The last man came under her gaze. He still held his cards. "Gwain, get the response portkeys." Based on the same charm that allowed Post Owls to find addresses, the response portkeys could be given an address and would take whoever was holding them to it, regardless if they knew the location or not.

"Why?" Gwain asked, looking highly disturbed. "What's the big emergency?"

Amelia's eyes tightened. "There's already been a Death Eater attack tonight. At least four families' floos have been cut off. I'd bet my families vault that there will be more Death Eater attacks in the next few minutes." Gwain's face was almost pure white now, the cards falling heedlessly to the floor. "Now get me those portkeys!" Amelia growled, and the trembling Auror jumped before dashing towards the locked cupboard where they were kept. The other two also disappeared through the doorway to the other departments.

The on-call Aurors started to appear in the Internal Department floos… after almost three minutes delay. Amelia's frown grew deeper in that time, and a scowl formed as the first member stumbled through, half dressed and clearly still mostly asleep.

"Who the bloody hell hit the alarm? I only just got to sleep!" Her persistent headache Dawlish grumbled loudly, his robes only hanging loosely over his pyjamas. "What kind of fool runs a drill at this time of night?"

"That would be me, Auror Dawlish!" Amelia snapped sharply, drawing the younger wizard up short. The two glared at each other for a moment. When she'd come back after the attack on her home, Amelia had discovered Dawlish was trying to take the supposedly empty DMLE Head position, playing on his 'friendship' with Rufus, who had been leading the running for being the new Minister of Magic. Rufus had been elected earlier in the week, so now Dawlish was trying to get into Rufus's old post as Head Auror.

Problem for Dawlish was that he and Amelia all but hated each other. Truth be told, Amelia found both him and Rufus almost unbearable. Dawlish came across as too slimy and self-serving to be trusted, while Rufus embodied some of the worst Gryffindor traits: showy, headstrong and cocky. Dawlish had also been too close to Fudge for her tastes.

Before anything more could be said a interdepartmental note flew in through the door to hover before Amelia. Snatching it out of the air she quickly read the contents.

'_Floo's locked down. High level Ministry code. Can't override. Families affected; Tonks, Weasley, Longbottom, Greengrass, Lovegood.'_

Amelia shivered slightly as she read the names. The Tonks were already safe, but the others they had no word of. All she knew had connections with Harry Potter. Miss Greengrass was to be another consort, cementing their Houses Alliance, while the others were all involved with Potter during that incident at the start of last month. If the Death Eaters were trying to isolate Harry…

Looking up she saw that most of her department were in now, though most clearly were still half-asleep and were irritated at been summoned. Well, tough.

"Listen up! We've had one confirmed Death Eater attack tonight." Many of the faces paled as sleep was banished from them. "I expect more. Another four family Floos have been cut off. I need teams ready to head out NOW! And have others ready to go! Someone get to the Monitoring Board and back up Danes: they may send out others raiding Muggles or Muggleborns. We need to be ready to stop them."

"Who cares? They're just muggles." Dawlish muttered quietly... but not quietly enough.

"Auror Dawlish! That kind of attitude is UNACCEPTABLE!" Amelia roared, stepping forwards to intrude into his personal space. "I will not allow such views in any member of the Department. Anyone espousing such can hand in their badge, right now!"

Dawlish straightened to his full height, trying to intimidate the smaller woman with his size… but before he could say anything Amelia cut him off.

"Don't try to intimidate me, Auror Dawlish. I know what you've been doing after Voldemort's attack on my home." A small spark of satisfaction went through her when he started at the Dark Lord's name. "Our job is to ensure the safety of ALL members of the public, regardless of magical ability. Any more attitude like that and I'll have you arrested as a suspected Death Eater spy!"

Dawlish blanched in response, but didn't say anything. Satisfied that she had made her point, Amelia turned back to the other Aurors.

"Right then… I need a team to head to each of these addresses…" She passed out the names of those families cut off from the Floo network except the Tonks. "Once you arrive first secure the area, make contact with them and…"

"Director! The Dark Mark has just been cast in a muggle area!" The Auror she'd ordered to monitor the detection board yelled as he re-entered the room at a dead run. "There's also spikes in the Ottery St Catchpole area, and at Longbottom Manor!"

"Damn it!" Amelia cursed. "Get moving! The attacks have started already!"

* * *

**A/N:** And that's it today. Next chapter will deal with the attacks themselves... look out for it on the 12th... till then.


	29. Bloody Friday

**A/N: **Well, here it is. The chapter you've been patiently waiting for. Things are about to get nasty...

UPDATE 5th June: Trimmed some of the battles at the Granger and Lovegood homes. Hope that's enough to squeak past the rating...

* * *

Molly Weasley stood at the kitchen sink in their kitchen, washing the dishes. The fact she was doing them by hand rather than using magic was a sign of just how angry Arthur was.

By the time they had returned from Gringotts Molly had regained use of her voice, and her temper. "Who does that bitch think she is? Where has that hussy been hiding the last fifteen years, while I've been taking care of poor Harry..."

"ENOUGH!" Arthur roar had cut her off... and stunned all their children. They had all stared in slack-jawed amazement at the normally mild-mannered man.

"Molly, your attitude and actions have already got this whole family in trouble with the goblins. Its only because Harry... Mister Potter, was so forgiving that we were able to walk out of there."

"FORGIVING? Arthur, he wants nearly _fifty-two__ and __a __half__ thousand_ Galleons!" Ron's jaw dropped as his ears started turning red.

"And we will repay every knut woman!" Arthur cut her off before she could get a head of steam up. "You know that you had no right to use his money to pay for all that you bought these last few years!"

"Our children needed those things!"

"And we could have bought them ourselves, without having to rob another!" With a groan Arthur raised a hand to massage his forehead. "Molly... you're really messed things up. Going behind my back, stealing not only Harry's, but our daughter's future..." He sighed before looking at her solemnly. "I need time to think about this. But two things first. First... where are the potions you've been feeding them?"

Molly had puffed up in anger. "How dare you! I would never...!"

"I already know, Molly. Don't bother trying to deny it. Now, I want those potions, now."

Molly had been stunned at her husband's calm, yet forceful manner. The outer layer that everyone else saw – the affable, soft, mild-mannered over the hill figure – was gone. Now his inner, true nature was clear: unbending, unyielding pillar of moral conduct and justice. She'd first seen it when the truth about how she got his attention had come out; it had terrified her and aroused her in equal measure. Over the years since their marriage there had been less and less occasions when Arthur showed his true colours. The last had been four years ago, when he'd stood up to – and taken a swing at – that 'paragon of Pureblood virtue' Lucius Malfoy.

Now though, that ire was directed solely at her, and there was nothing arousing about it this time. Molly almost gave in and told him about the secret compartment, but then stiffened herself, remembering what her mother had told her. It had been her who had taught the young Molly Prewett, shortly before her marriage, about how to install such a secret compartment. The Prewetts had always been ruled by the women, and Molly was to continue the line with fresh blood. Molly had seen the decline of her Families fortunes and glory, but had been powerless to do anything to stop it: all the noble line heirs had already been set into contracted marriages, leaving her with little chance of bringing fresh wealth into her family without defecting to the Dark.

The association with the Order had been a godsend. The chance to see and be seen by all the noble Light Families. By being bound together with such a cause, they could become good friends to the likes of the Potters, the Bones and the Longbottoms. And afterwards, their children could grow up together... and get married later on. And Molly, as mother-in-law to one of those immensely wealth families, would be elevated to the style that she had been born to.

But things had gone terribly wrong. The Bones had been all but wiped out, leaving just that frigid hardened battleaxe Amelia and a niece from a younger brother of the Bones she had known. And then the girls parents had died a couple of years later. The girl was of Ron's age, but Molly knew the rules of inheritance: Ronald or any of their other son's would have had to give up their family name to wed her. And with Madam Bones looming in the background, Molly would have been cut out of the loop in regard to the Bones family.

The Longbottoms, technically the lowest of those three families, had emerged from the War unscathed... but a couple of months later they had been attacked, leaving the Longbottoms mindless vegetables and the only heir a presumed squib.

The Potters had always been the ones she'd been eyeing. Richer than the others, but more importantly, powerful and respected. The Potter Family had been a major influence on the world in the past century. The young James had been quite the catch, but sadly totally devoted to his new wife, Lily.

Lily. Molly still shivered at the thought of the younger witch. Ronald had gotten his jealous nature from his mother, who had been, and now still was, intensely jealous of Lily's looks, charm, intelligence and power. And most of all, her becoming the next Lady Potter. If only Molly had been a couple of years younger! She had been in her Seventh Year when he entered Hogwarts for the first time, no time to try and entice him into her arms. Now, had she been a Fourth Year, or even Fifth...

Like everyone else in the country she had rejoiced in the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and grieved at the loss of the young Potters. But underneath that she had sensed an opportunity to achieve her wildest ambitions. If she could get Harry to see her as a mother figure, then he would be more than willing to help her out 'in her old age'. It was so fortunate that the Headmaster was quietly searching for a suitable future match for the infant Potter. Molly had stepped forwards almost right away, offering her newly born daughter Ginerva.

Then when young Harry had started at Hogwarts, Ron had played his role perfectly, in spite of not knowing it. He befriended young Harry, and through him the rest of the family. Molly had been all set for Harry to properly met Ginny the next year...

The appearance of miss Granger however had thrown everything into doubt. While she only met her briefly before the second year, even then Molly could see the connection between her and Harry. Realising the danger, she'd started planning. Her future would be secured.

But now... it was all ashes. And the look in her husbands' eyes told her that he would not be offering support, not for this.

Well, she wouldn't give in either.

"Daddy?" Ginny's voice drew both adults attention to where she stood in the kitchen doorway. She was trembling, but pressed on. "They're in here."

"Don't you dare…!" Molly begun.

"Molly!" Arthur snapped, cutting her off. After glaring at her for a moment, he turned back to his daughter. "You know where they are?"

Ginny nodded, before stepping over to the counter. Drawing her wand, she spoke the password... and as before the compartment opened up. She stepped back, tears running down her cheeks as Arthur and Bill approached. Both looked inside, countenances hardening as they did. Arthur slipped an arm around Ginny who willing burrowed into his side.

"Bill... destroy the lot."

As their eldest nodded grimly, Arthur turned to regard his wife coldly. Molly felt her knees shaking, so harsh was his look. With one armed still wrapped around their daughter, he held out his other hand. "The second part, Molly... your wand."

She had started, staring at him. He was seriously asking her to give up her wand? Denying her use of magic? What was he thinking?

Arthur's stern gaze had not wavered, his expression as solid as if carved from stone. In his eyes, she could tell he was perfectly serious... and unyielding.

Slowly, reluctantly, she had passed over her wand.

It was as she was making dinner that she realised something: life without magic for a witch was a fate worse than death.

They were delayed eating by almost two hours. She nearly had to restart twice, and nothing came out right. She was so used to using magic to ensure that things came out perfect. The meat was under-cooked, the potatoes burnt and the vegetables were soggy. The rest of the family picked out the edible bits with grimaces... except Ronald. He devoured his entire plateful... then asked for more! When she told him there was no more he seemed incapable of understanding. Fortunately, Ginny had pushed across her practically untouched meal. After he ate that, he took both the twins as well.

When he finished both of theirs, he had sat back... and belched. Loudly. "Aaahh. So, where's dessert?"

Molly had been stunned speechless, though her face was incandescent with rage. Arthur, nearly as angry and certainly as disgusted, had ordered their youngest to his room. Ron had protested, before finally submitting, moaning and mumbling all the way.

Now she was washing the dishes used... by hand. Arthur was sitting at the table behind her, nursing a cup of tea. He'd been stony with her all evening.

"Why Molly? Why did you do it?" He suddenly asked almost gently.

Molly paused, his quietly asked question tugging at her conscious. She found herself answering him honestly.

"For the future Arthur." Feeling his eyes bore into the back of her head, Molly started washing again slowly, while talking.

"We were never going to amount to much Arthur, even you can see that. Our children... If I had not done what I did, then none of them would have been able to go to Hogwarts. We would have been forced to send them through Brighton Magical." Although Hogwarts was 'The' magical school of Great Britain, it was not the _only_ school. There were half dozen other, smaller schools scattered around the British Isles. These schools were run and funded by the Ministry, and thus were free admission to all students. However, what they did not tell the parents of muggleborns – the ones who were the majority attendees – was the fact that these 'Public' schools were far inferior to Hogwarts. While Hogwarts had it's nearly three hundred boarders across seven years and four Houses, the Public schools each had about fifty students per year, all sharing the same classes instead of Hogwarts approximately twenty per class. And the classes were of a much lower grade than Hogwarts. None of the teachers had Masteries in any subject, and the schools only taught the core subjects – Charms, Transfiguration, Defence, History and Potions. The other subjects, electives at Hogwarts, were only touched on briefly, as subjects for further study in the students' own time. Lastly, the Public schools only taught up to OWL level: only Hogwarts took students all the way to NEWT.

Behind her Arthur sighed once more. "If you had not pressed so hard for a daughter… We could have funded Bill, Charlie, maybe Percy…" He looked up at her back sharply. "…But you had to have a daughter. Would you have stopped having children if our first-born had been a girl?"

Molly stilled, but remained silent. Not even she knew the answer to that one.

"Molly… I'm proud of what our eldest children have achieved. Bill would never have been recruited into Gringotts if he hadn't gone through Hogwarts. But I am ashamed of the way we did it." Molly turned to face him, hope and worry creating a confusing mix on her face.

"You lied to me, Molly. What you have done has placed a black mark… several black marks on our families' honour." Arthur's face was stern. "You moan about the lack of money? At least we had our honour. Without Honour, we'd be just like the Malfoy's."

Molly shuddered. He knew how much she hated that family. Lucius was a blight on everything he involved himself in. It was an opinion that her husband shared.

"Worst of all Molly, you manipulated an innocent young man, whispering meaningless platitudes in his ear while robbing him blind. You poisoned him, his best friend and two of our own children, all to make some gold!"

Molly's temper flared up. "That's not at all…"

"Quiet!" Arthur yelled standing upright, shocking Molly into silence. Out in the living room Ginny, Bill and the twins watched and listened, awed at their fathers assertiveness. "I am not finished yet Molly. I do not…"

He froze suddenly, head twitching. He leaned to one side slightly… before his eyes widened in alarm. "Get down!"

Molly dropped to the floor… just before the window behind her shattered with an almighty crash. Glass scythed through the space she had just been in. Arthur was already on the move, wand drawn as he reached the front door. He yanked the upper half open, leaned out… and recoiled sharply just before a sinister green spell shot past him to slam into one of the sofas, blasting a hole in the cushion and sending green tendrils running along the surface.

He looked to his family, eyes wide. "Death Eaters." It was all they needed to hear.

Ginny almost sprinted forwards, drawing her wand as she did. Stopping on the other side of the door from her father, she leaned out before snapping off a hex. Harry's training paid off, as her _Reducto_ struck the ground just before one of the masked men's feet, showering him with dirt. She snapped off another hex, but this one sailed over another Death Eater's shoulder to dissipate in the air. However, following it's track allow Ginny to spot another, graver threat.

"They've got Dementors with them!"

Behind her Molly shrieked in out right panic, her worst nightmare flashing before her eyes. Arthur looked back into the room. "Bill, the floo…" He began.

"Sorry father. Already tried." Bill said shaking his head. "The connections dead."

Already the air was becoming chilled as the Dementors closed in, their rapid breathing forming mist.

"Don't worry dad." One twin spoke.

"We'll deal with them." The other continued.

"You deal with those scum."

"BOYS!" Molly rounded on the pair, fists on her hips. "That kind of language is…"

"…Totally appropriate." Arthur finished, cutting her off. While his wife looked at him in shock, he met his son's eyes. "Keep them away."

"No worries dad."

"We've got it covered."

"We'll even get Ronikin's in on the fight."

"If he even remembers how to…" Their voices were lost as they thundered up the stairs.

"Arthur…" Molly began.

"Save it Molly." He cut her off again before holding out her wand. "Instead of berating our children, how about you help them defend our home!"

* * *

On arrival on the other side of Ottery St Catchpole, Auror Hestia Jones could hear spell fire close by. There was also a chill in the air… and she could see some plants that had already been killed by cold.

"Crap! They've got Dementors with them! Baker, Stockwell, patronus duty!" Though only a mildly experience Auror, Hestia was still the most experienced member in her group, thus was in charge. Quickly the seven blue robed Auror's hurried through the trees towards the Lovegood's home… ominously, the same direction that the spell fire was coming from. And which was worryingly dying off.

Stepping into the clearing where the Lovegoods had made their home, Hestia looked about quickly. The Rookery itself was battered around the door, chunks blown of the walls and up one side, causing the whole building to noticeably lean that way. There was a Death Eater sitting on the ground outside, wand pointed towards their thigh, while a half dozen dementors circled the top floor, swooping close to one shattered window but recoiling back each time. A white light from within hinted that a Patronus was there, but it was fading. Some spell fire came from within.

The auror's stared for a moment, startled and shocked, but then movement caught Hestia's attention. One of the dementors had noticed their arrival.

"_Expecto__ Patroum_!" she cried snapping her wand up. While no animal image formed, the broad, whitish dish that formed between then and the on-coming dementor pushed it back, and snapped the others out of their daze. Quickly two white comets rocketed up through the shield and started chasing the dementor away. Two red stunners, closely followed by a third, shot across towards the wounded Death Eater, who was only just looking over his shoulder. The first and third missed, but the second caught the man in the shoulder. His upper body fell back to land on the ground, his wand falling from a slack grasp.

"Secure him!" Hestia snapped as she started forward. The stunned Death Eater was bond and stunned again for good measure. While the two on Patronus duty remained outside the door, the other five entered the building.

The ground floor was a mess of broken furniture, as was the first floor. It was on the second they found the other Death Eaters. They were taking cover behind the remains of various desks and tables, hurling spells at the doorway that led to the last flight of stairs. Most were sporting minor injuries. Spells came back at them intermittently.

"Aurors! Drop your wands!" Auror Mason yelled as he entered the room directly behind Hestia. Without thinking she threw herself to one side… jut before a volley of curses came whizzing through the space she'd been in. At least one had been the lethal green of the Killing Curse. Mason was dead before he hit the floor. The others' following them had frozen.

'_Idiotic __fool__'_ Hestia thought pityingly at the gruesome sight. Ever since the Department of Mysteries she'd been reconsidering her actions and role in the coming war. While not directly involved in the events that had happened in June, she had talked with the other Aurors who had; Tonks, Kingsley and even Moody. During the course of which, she had noticed something. Moody had emerged unscratched, while the much younger, and whole, Tonks had been trounced. Tonks had stayed within defined Auror spell casting: stunners, disarmers and binding curses. Moody however, had gone straight into using potentially lethal curses: blasting, cutting, bone-breakers and the like. The Death Eaters had been throwing around the same and worse.

It had led to a personal decision for Hestia. They had to step up their game, and really _hurt_ these monsters, if they were to win. Just stunning them was no good. Seeing the remains of Mason lying there just reinforced her decision.

Leaning out from her place behind an overturned bookcase, she snapped off a bone-breaker. Her training held true as she caught one in the thigh. The Death Eater screamed in agony as he pitched to the floor.

Two others started to move round the furniture they had been hiding behind, but a spell shot out from the far stairwell and caught one in the side. That figure slumped down, out cold.

"Drat. Let's get out of here!" One of the masked Death Eaters yelled before they all disappeared rapidly, vanishing in the swirls of colour that denoted portkeys.

"Damnit!" Hestia cursed. After a moment however she sighed. "Still, got one." She muttered before easing to her feet. "Xenophillus Lovegood?" She called out across the battle torn space.

"Help… Luna…" Came the faint reply.

Hurrying across, the Aurors found the editor and printer of _The__ Quibbler_ laying on the steps, looking very much worse for wear. Numerous cuts criss-crossed his body, and there was blood on the steps beneath him. One leg was certainly shattered, while his eyes were pain filled.

"Tend to him." Hestia snapped before moving rapidly up the stairs, towards, she realised, where the Patronus had been. But who...

Stepping up into the top room, Hestia was shocked into inaction for a moment. The room was decorated like any young witches bedroom, though the effect was marred by the Dementor that was climbing in through the window. Slumped by the bed on the floor, little Luna Lovegood was shakily pointing her wand at the oncoming creature. "Ex… Expec…" She was mumbling, clearly feeling the effects of prolonged exposure to the effects of Dementors and magical exhaustion.

All of a sudden it was clear. It had been _Miss__ Lovegood_ who had been holding off the Dementors, not her father.

Snapping up her wand, Hestia cast the patronus charm once more, forming a wide area shield before the Dementor. The foul creature froze, before franticly trying to climb backwards out the window. Hestia stepped forwards slowly, forcing the thing out. Then she heard Miss Lovegood cast once more… and a silvery hare leapt past her, startling her so much she nearly lost control of her own spell. The hare raced up to the now fully panicking dementor, before it spun on the spot and delivered a kick with both back feet to the creatures face. The Dementor howled, flying backwards out of the house. The hare remained on the windowsill, but beyond the already fading corporeal patronus Hestia saw a couple of silvery comets streak up, chasing the foul thing away.

Feeling the area effects of the Dementors fade, Hestia lowered her wand before turning towards Luna. The young girl was barely conscious, skin pale and clammy. Still, she was unmarked otherwise when Hestia crouched down to examine her.

"Here, rest for bit. You've pushed yourself almost too far."

Miss Lovegood smiled at her slightly. "No choice… not really." She answered in a faint voice.

Hestia smiled as she patted the girls' hand. "How on earth did you learn to summon a corporeal patronus though?"

A genuine smile formed on the girls lips. "Harry. He taught it to all of us."

"Harry, as in, Harry Potter?"

Luna nodded. "He learned it in his third year. The effects of Dementors on him are much worse than for others."

Clumping footsteps heralded the arrival of another of her team. When they arrived a look at the scene kept him quiet, but the expression on his face… Hestia sighed. This was going to be bad. Passing a spare bar of chocolate she'd kept in her pocket to Luna, Hestia stepped over to the other auror. "What is it?"

"They got away clean. No way to trace. Might get something from the one outside, but…" He sighed wearily. "Mister Lovegood's had it. He's… we can't help him here."

"Then why haven't you sent him to St Mungos?"

"They set up some Anti-app and port wards Auror Jones. Their portkeys work fine through it, but ours don't. By the time we get him past the ward line wherever it is…" He shook his head slowly.

Hestia swore under her breath. After a moment she straightened and stepped back to the young girl, who was just finishing off the chocolate bar.

"Miss Lovegood? We have to leave now. The building has taken damage, and another attack might be coming…"

Luna looked up at her, seemed to gaze through her for a long moment, and then nodded. "Will we be coming back?"

"I don't know…" Hestia hesitated. "Miss, your fathers badly hurt. We'll…" her throat clamped shut on the lie she had been about to tell the young girl.

Luna's eyes widened, as if she could tell just what Hestia didn't want to say. "No… not him too!" Suddenly she shot past both Hestia and the other Auror, her feet clattering on the stairs. Sighing with regret, Hestia followed more sedately.

She caught up with her at her father's side. Luna was hugging him around the neck, crying into his shoulder. Xenophilius was sat propped up against the wall just to the side of the stairs, his skin grey. But there was just enough life in him still to allow him to raise one hand and rub his daughters back. "Don't cry Luna… Don't cry…"

"But daddy… you're going away!" Luna sobbed. "Just like mother!"

"I know sweetpea… But when… I reach her, we'll wait… for you to join us. Both of us. But… not yet."

"I don't want you to go!"

"I know… But I'm too far gone already."

"Please stay!"

"No… Choice in that." Xenophilus was struggling to draw breath now, but he continued to try and reassure his daughter. "You… go to your friends. Let them… take care of you from now on." He lifted his blurry eyes to Hestia, stood just beyond Luna watching with a tear in her eye. "You will make… sure that she's safe?"

Hestia nodded, not trusting her voice. Xeno returned his attention to Luna.

"Go Luna dear, don't look back. I'm going to see mum… you need to go… stay with your friends. Don't let this mo… moment dominate your life. Live it, Luna. Promise me!"

Luna forced back a sob. "I promise."

A smile tried to form on his face. "That's my girl. Now… go. Go to Harry and Hermione. You'll be safe with them… Go on…"

Luna, slowly and reluctantly, released her hold of her father before sitting back. She took one last look at him before standing up. She stepped towards the other flight of stairs… then paused. Her head turned slightly…

"Don't look back." Xeno coughed out, a thin trinkle of blood running over his chin. "Go and live…"

After several seconds, Luna took the next step, and then the next. Slowly she made her way down the stairs. Hestia waited until she was out of sight before crouching down by Mister Lovegood. "Sir… I…"

"Don't worry." Xeno said softly. "I'm joining my beloved wife, after so long…" He coughed, choking for a moment. "Make sure she gets to Harry Potter… he'll look out for her…"

Hestia nodded. "I promise."

A true smile formed on his face as his eyes lost their focus. "Good. That's… all that matters…" His voice died off, his body stilling. After a second his head lolled back, eyes sightlessly looking forwards.

With a heavy heart, Hestia reached out and closed his eyelids. He'd stood against the Death Eaters, holding out eight to one against long enough for the Aurors to arrive and rescue his daughter. She had to respect the eccentric man for that.

After a moment she followed Miss Lovegood down the stairs. She found her sitting on the bottom step, hunched over. Fighting back tears, Hestia sat down besides her.

"He's gone… isn't he?" The words were so quiet she almost missed them. Hestia had to draw in a deep breath.

"Yes. He's gone. I stayed till… till the end."

A sob escaped the curled up waif, and slowly she seemed to fall onto her side. Hestia guided the child to lean across her lap, where Luna cried for her father. Tears ran down Hestia's cheeks for the orphan, and for all those who had yet to die for this war…

* * *

Major Bearson Greengrass scowled as he stepped over the fallen front door of 'Greengrass Manor'. Manor indeed! This hovel was not fitting to even bear the word 'house', let alone be associated with his glorious name! And the Muggles nearby… it made his skin crawl. While they had their uses – muggles had certainly come up with many interesting and effective means of killing one another – Bearson had never liked mixing with the swine. Their lack of magic clearly made them inferior to even the weakest of wizards.

Striding forwards he made sure to keep his pace measured, heavy. The sound of his footsteps should be driving his brother's family the depths of terror.

Though there was far more terror for them to experience, oh yes.

His advance guard had struck just as the sun had set. They had already reconnoitred the area earlier that day, and had placed their portable ward stones just outside the Greengrass homes ward lines. The combined 'notice-me-not' and muggle repelling wards kept any actions within unnoticed, while the anti-apparition and Portkey lines ensure there was no escape. He had been assured the Floo connection was cut, and that the Ministry was busy elsewhere.

Stepping into the living room he glanced at the front wall. It had previously had a large bank of bay windows looking out over the front lawn. An excellent defensive position, had the occupants realised it. Not any more. The first warning of the attack had been the pair of RPG's he'd had his men launch at the ends of the windows. The combined blast had been… impressive. Most of that wall was now gone, and the living space was in ruins.

After that attack his men had advanced, firing bursts from their guns to keep the defenders down while they rushed the building. Some spell fire had shot back, but his elite men had not faltered and continued to push onwards, even when one had been caught in the thigh with a curse that managed to breach the shield he'd cast. From the wound it appeared to have been a _Reducto _or blasting curse. The shield had reduced the power of the curse though, fortunately for his man.

The attack had been swift. A mixture of curses and bullets had savaged the front of the old building, before a pair of blasting curses had torn the front door free of its hinges. After a grenade had been tossed in, the storm troopers had done what they did best; storm the building. Only a minute or two later, one had emerged and given the all clear.

Now Bearson walked into the kitchen, eyes guarded but wary. The last time he'd tangled with his brother and nephew, he'd lost both his arm and his wife. The pair were deadly fighters, or at least had been. The years of living in this decedent country had hopefully made them soft…

Looking around, his eyes narrowed on his nephew. Erikson was held against the wall by two of his men, blood weeping from several gashes on his face, while one leg looked unable to support his weight. Another two of his men were stood off to one side, both spotting minor injuries but still able to fight. Crashing noises from above suggested that the other two troopers were searching upstairs with typical brutal fashion, while the last stood just behind his remaining elbow.

There was no sign of the rest of his brother's family.

"Where are the others?" He asked in German, his head turned slightly to his side.

"Unknown Major. We were under fire from at least three wands as we approached, but it slacked off after we hit the door." The trooper reported emotionlessly. "We subdued this man, but so far none of the other targets have been found."

Bearson turned back to regard his nephew, eyes gleaming coldly even as the younger man looked back defiantly. "Where are your daughters, your father?" He asked slowly in English.

Erikson barked a short, pain filled laugh. "Somewhere where you'll never find them traitor."

"You're the traitor here." Bearson stepped forwards suddenly, his hand resting on his wand. "You allow our noble house to become polluted with the blood of animals, those… muggles." He breathed deeply for a moment. "No matter, once I have your daughters, I'll ensure our family is restored to its rightful place."

"Go to hell uncle! You'll never get your hands on the family title!"

"Oh but I will. I've seen the lay of the land here in this country. There is no chance for your daughters to save the line."

"Are you sure?" Erikson smirked.

Bearson stilled, eyes narrowing. "What have you done nephew?"

"Me? Nothing. It was my daughter who found a young man willing to let her maintain control. The contract has already been submitted and approved. You can't stop it now. You'll never find them…"

"Oh… watch me." Bearson drawled as he drew his wand. "_Legilimens_!" He snapped as he levelled the wand at his nephew's forehead.

Normally, Erikson Greengrass had what would be referred to as 'decent' mental shields, enough to deter most attackers. However, at this point in time he was wounded, battered and had to watch as his hated uncles men had torn into his home. Mental, physical and emotional exhaustion sapped at his strength, while Bearson levered all his skill into breaking through. Bearson was not a particularly strong wizard magically, but he had learned many tricks and ways to maximise what power he did have. The shield preventing him entry into his nephew's thoughts strained, cracked, then shattered, allowing a maelstrom of thoughts and memories to cascade out. With the skill of an experienced interrogator, Bearson quickly shifted through the dross, looking for what he wanted.

A flash of his brother in the kitchen with his nephew, the view suddenly washed out as the RPG's had exploded. The multiple voices calling out curses at the shadowy figures advancing… and then he found it. His nephew stood aside as his eldest daughter helped her grandfather down an entrance in the floor, tears running down her checks. His brother had a blood stained arm, pain creasing his face. The twin little girls followed, as the second oldest hugged her father. Erikson's wife stepped forwards, gently shooing their daughter towards the trapdoor before taking her place, kissing her husband desperately, crying all the while. They spoke softly – he didn't bother to listen to the meaningless platitudes – before she too climbed down the hole. With a shaky wand Erikson had sealed the trapdoor before moving the kitchen rug and table back to cover it…

Pulling out of his nephew's mind, Bearson watched as Erikson gasped and sagged in his men's grip. Then he turned, looking at the heavy wooden table in the centre of the room. With a snarl his wand came up and a blasting hex broke the table in two, the halves falling away to each side. Another pair of hexes tore open the floor, revealing the yawing black hole of the tunnel the rest of the family had escaped down.

"After them." He growled, and the other two troopers saluted before dropping down one after the other.

"You're too late uncle." Erikson gasped from behind him. "By now they'll have escaped to safety."

Bearson turned to look at his nephew. "You knew staying would mean a death sentence for you." He mused aloud. "Why?"

Erikson stopped laughing and stood a little straighter, eyes fixed firmly on his uncle. "I love my family. I would die for them."

"And so you shall."

The kitchen was brilliantly lit again and again by the muzzle flashes as Bearson fired again and again. The first bullet would have been enough to kill Erikson in minutes: the other eight were just overkill, the last boring through his right temple.

Bearson breathed raggedly as he slowly lowered his gun, eyes fixed on the body before him. Hearing his men reassemble behind him, he slowly holstered it.

"Anything?"

"No sir. The tunnel leads out well beyond the wards. The trail just disappears. They must have portkeyed away."

"Nothing upstairs to report either."

Bearson nodded slowly, scowling. "This is just a set back. We're done here." He turned to exit the building. "Burn it. All of it."

A round of nods followed his order as he stepped back outside. Two followed to collect their wards stones, while the rest cast incendiary curses. Within minutes the entire ground floor of Greengrass Manor was aflame, and the nine Magi-SS had gone, leaving death in their wake.

* * *

Neville breathed deeply as he watched the last dementor fly off, finally lowering his new wand. The foul things had descended on Longbottom Manor as the sun had set, plunging the area into darkness early and chilling the air. Both he and Hannah had drawn on the DA training they had had to cast them back. It was as the creatures fell back from the unexpected resistance that he'd noticed the black clad figures advancing over the grounds towards the main house. It had been pure chance that he and Hannah had visited his greenhouse; had they remained inside, they would never have been in position to see the oncoming attack.

Before either of them could even try to warn her however, his gran must have tripped the Manors defences, as pale obelisks had erupted from the ground around the manor, the runes carved into their flanks glowing with power. The wards had thickened, becoming a misty dome that covered the manor. Several dementors had been cut off inside the dome, and had made for him and Hannah. The two of them had used their patronuses to hold them off, but Neville had realised that they could not hold out for long.

Under cover of their patroni, the two teens had fallen back to the manor house itself. The path they followed went between two of the smooth, rounded obelisks – ancient menhirs that the Longbottoms ancestors had carved long before the Romans came to England – which crackled and hummed threateningly. Hannah had slowed, terrified at the raw, wild magic that emanated from the ancient stones, but Neville had wrapped his arms around her and almost carried her forwards. The obelisks, created with long forgotten magic, recognised him as an heir to the Longbottom line... and recognised her as a friend, her magical signature known to the wards already. They passed between the stones without pause or harm.

A dementor that tried to follow them, intending to snatch Hannah out of Neville's grasp, was not so fortunate. The obelisks had pulsed, and a bright wave had slammed out to send it reeling back.

The pair of them had just reached the patio area when the dome had cracked, the work of a ward breaker. Beyond the obelisks and the hedges, they could see the Death Eaters stride through a breach in the wards just before the whole dome collapsed. Steeling themselves, the young couple had prepared to fight.

It was an excellent display of how a small group could hold off a much larger force with the use of defensive terrain. The obelisks had repulsed the dementors again and again until they started flying high up and over them. The Death Eaters, although not thrown reeling by the pulses emanating from the stones, had been unable to make any headway against them, leaving them horribly exposed. Neville had proven his DA training by nailing three in a row with long-range spell fire. While he and Hannah had to divert their attention to the returning dementors, his gran had continued to hammer the other wizards.

Neville saw a new side of his formidable grandmother that evening. Faced with those who were allied with the ones who tortured her son, Augusta Longbottom went cold, before unleashing her full fury and pain on them. Despite her advanced years, she could still wield her magic as well as she used her tongue in the Wizengamont. Her emotions came out in her choice of spells: bone-breakers and cutting hexes. Several times she also unleashes verbal curses on them; the first time Neville looked at his normally strictly courteous grandmother with some alarm.

It didn't go all the Longbottoms way. Quickly the Death Eaters worked out the source of their troubles, and began unleashing blasting curses on the obelisks. While they were magically reinforced, there was only so much each obelisk could take. Bit by bit they were broken apart, the rock shards flying about as the blasting spells bit deep. Soon they had knocked out enough for the Death Eaters to advance.

In years past, it would have been a lot harder for an attacking force to breech the manors defences this way. At one time there had been two complete rings of standing stones, each one of which was engraved with numerous runes. But over the centuries since the runes had faded, and many of the stones had been removed to make way for the expansion of the manor.

As spell fire came in to land around them, all three of the defenders began to take harm. Shards of flying rock lacerated exposed skin, while the dementors chilling and happiness draining effects sapped their strength and resolve.

But, at last, the Aurors had arrived behind the Death Eaters, and the masked men had withdrawn... many of them wounded in some form. The dementors, now facing fresh and concentrated resistance, had fled into the night sky.

Feeling the adrenaline fade away, he turned to look at his recently betrothed. Hannah was starting to shake, wand held loosely in her hand. Wordlessly he stepped over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, and he felt the tears started to fall. Gently rubbing her back he slowly sat down on one of the few remaining seats there, guiding Hannah to sit across his lap.

Augusta allowed herself a small smile and a nod of respect and admiration. Her grandson had worried her for a long time, but he was definitely growing into a fine young man. Young Miss Abbot was a fine young woman, clearly lacking his experience with conflict, but she'd stayed in with them throughout. She would be a fine addition to the family.

Hearing approaching footsteps, she steeled her expression to its most severe, forcing down the pain she felt from her own minor injuries. Stepped along the path she met the approaching Aurors with a stern look and arms crossed.

"Well... what took you so long?"

* * *

Chocolate brown eyes snapped open, eyes focusing on the ceiling within a second. Slowly Daniel Granger sat upright, looking about his brother's spare room. Nothing was amiss, nothing disturbed. The house was quiet.

Yet something was wrong. Very wrong.

Daniel slowly slipped out of the bed, his nerves on edge. Carol had never understood why he'd not advanced in rank, but his superiors had. One of Captain Grangers strengths was his instincts, his 'gut feelings'. He was an excellent battlefield officer… but that strength did not carry over into situations outside of the battlefield. He was not too proud to admit that he was terrible with paperwork. The brass, in a rare moment of sense and clarity, had also agreed that promoting him, and taking him out of the field, would be a waste of his potential. Put simply, his niche was in battle, not in the headquarters or behind the lines.

But combat was a young man's game, and so he'd retired, with full honours and excellent pension.

However, after twenty years honing, those instincts were top notch, and hardly ever wrong.

And right now, they were screaming that something was terribly wrong.

Stepping silently to the door, he eased it open, to peer down both 'arms' of the upstairs landing, looking for a source for his disquiet. Nothing seemed amiss. There was still a light on downstairs, likely the kitchen…

Then a sound came from below… one that he had heard too many times.

A man screaming in pain.

It sent shivers running down his spine, but before he could lift a foot to head downstairs, the scream died off.

"I will not ask you again, muggle." A cold, aristocratic voice sneered cruelly. "Where is your precious mudblood daughter?"

"Fuck you."

Daniel stilled, eyes narrowing to brown slits. While the second voice was pain filled, he recognised his brother. Someone had broken into his brother's house, after his daughter Hermione, and was torturing his brother to find her. He didn't know what 'Mud-blood' meant, but he was sure it was not a compliment.

"_Crucio!__"_ The first voice called out, and the screaming started again… only this time Daniel realised it was his brother.

"Stop it, Stop it!" He heard Emma yell. "She's out! We already told you!"

The screaming stopped. "Patience, muggle bitch." The unknown man said his tone full of menace. "You'll get your own chance to scream. Goyle, Brent, check upstairs. Find her!"

Daniel breathed deeply before stepping back, focusing. Pushing all other thoughts aside, he quickly dropped down by one of his duffle bags. In moments he had extracted a slim case from the end compartment. Standing upright, he unzipped the semi-rigid case before flipping it open.

Not many former officers did it, but the 2nd Parachute regiment allowed former officers to keep their service pistols when they retired. It was in response to an incident a few years ago, when a small group of the 'Real IRA' had tracked down a retired officer at his home… and had murdered him and his family. Sinn Fein had, of course, decried the atrocity, repeatedly stating that it was rogue group, no longer a part of the IRA. No one in the MOD had believed them, but they could not act openly. But, a slight reinterpretation of the laws was allowed. Along with filling out the appropriate paperwork, of course.

The Army took care of its own.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Daniel quickly dropped the case on the bed before lifting out the Browning Hi-Power, sliding the first of his three thirteen-round magazines in with practiced efficiency and speed. Tucking it into the back of his sweat pants, Daniel took a grip of the other three items in the case. Dropping the other two clips into the pockets, he stepped back to the door and peered out at the stairs.

The first of the two men had stepped onto the landing, the other just behind him. Daniel frowned slightly at the sight of the long, dark robes they wore: just who were these people? And more to the point, what did they want with Hermione? Whoever they were, they were certainly here for no good. The two moved to the master bedroom and Hermione's first, both just looking into each before moving on. Silently Daniel melted back into the shadows, listening to their footsteps and voices.

"Darn, the little bitch isn't here."

"You heard Malfoy. We have to check."

"Yeah yeah. Bet he just wanted time alone with the mother."

"Nah, he wouldn't spoil himself with a filthy muggle. Besides, what about the others?"

"Suppose. Okay, you check that last room."

Daniel tensed slightly slowing his breathing. His fingers tightened their grip…

One of the black robed men stepped through the doorway, stepping just inside the spare room. He appeared to be looking about. "Nothing here." He called, even as Daniel slipped forwards.

"Okay, let's go tell Lucius the bad news."

The man grunted, but not in reply, as Daniel's left arm curled round his neck in a flash. Using the strength of his upper body Daniel pulled back on the figure, yanking the chin up and pressing his forearm into the man's throat and larynx, preventing him from calling out. Daniel was surprised at the silvery skull mask the man wore, but dismissed it as unimportant as his right hand came up with lethal intent. Six inches of cold forged, sharpened steel plunged into the Death Eater's back, sliding between two ribs to pierce his foul heart. He struggled against the tight grip that held him, jerking as the knife struck, but Daniel Grangers hold was far more than a match for the wizard. In less than a minute the body went limp, the hands falling away from his left arm where they had been trying to pry it away from around his throat. Daniel laid the man face down before stepping out of the room, leaving his knife behind. There would be time to get it later, and he doubted he'd get a chance to use it again.

The other man was taller and broader than he, but was already part way down the stairs. Daniel saw an opportunity and took it, walking down behind him, gaining as they neared the bottom. Just as the Death Eater stepped onto the ground floor Daniel struck, his hands wrapping round the other man's beefy neck. The man grunted, but was unable to call out. Hands scrabbled at his, trying to loosen the grip, but Daniel was taking no chances. Leaning in, he got his arms into position, before giving his shoulders a mighty twist. The combination of his toned muscles and technique produced the required effect, as the Death Eaters head twisted sharply through ninety degrees as his neck snapped with a sickening crack. Guiding the body down into the shadows, Daniel eased around the bottom of the stairs and slunk along the other side of the hall, drawing his gun along the way to the kitchen.

The house his brother had bought had been built in the late fifties, but had undergone several re-modelling phases since then. In the original floor plan, the large living and dinning rooms took up one half of the ground floor, with the stairs on the other outside wall and the kitchen tucked into the remaining corner. Now, the end of the hall and a corner of the dining area had been turned into more kitchen space, with walls and doors removed for a more open plan. The house had also been extended both out the back and the stair side. The kitchen had grown a little outwards, while the removed walls created a flattened triangle area. Reaching the end of the wall, Daniel peered round the modestly lit space.

Standing almost at the point of the triangle, barely two feet from him, another robed figure stood with his back to him. Across the kitchen he could see Emma standing to the side of the fridge/freezer, restrained by another two men. Tear tracks ran down her cheeks, one of which had a livid bruise forming. She looked scared half to death. Two more were on the far side of the kitchen, leaning on the worktop that ran around the two walls there… and with a clear view of him and the hall. Fortunately, both were focused on what was happening in the centre of the kitchen, the table that normally stood there resting on its side between him and them. Chunks of china and glass on the floor near him suggested that at least one plate and a couple of glasses had still been on it when the table had been thrown aside… somehow.

Lying in the centre of the room however was his brother Nathan. Several nasty cuts marred his body and his face looked beaten, but more worrying was the way he was twitching. That and the expression of absolute agony on his battered face. Ice-cold anger poured through Daniel's soul. Who ever beat on his little brother was going to pay!

In the far corner, just before the door that led into the conservatory that had been added to back of the house were another two men. While the one was dressed like the others, the other had either removed or not worn the hood and mask that the others did. The face revealed was cold and cruel in an aristocratic way, a face more suited to sneering disdainfully at everything and everyone. He doubted that this man ever smiled from joy. Platinum blond hair hung down his back.

"It seems you're daughter is not home after all." Blondie spoke, his voice the one who had spoken earlier. _'__The__ leader.__'_ "Pity. I was so hoping to meet her once more… and teach her the error of her ways."

"You're the only one who needs that lesson!" Emma all but snarled. The man looked at her scathingly.

"You forget, Mrs Granger, who is in control here. Now… I grow tired of dealing with you filthy muggles. I was going to begin her lesson with your screams, but as she has proven to be most difficult, as always…" He lifted his hand to level a rod of wood at Nathan. "_Avada__…_"

"Hey who are you!" Daniel snapped his attention back to the pair directly across from him. One had clearly glanced away, and had seen him! As other eyes jumped to look on his instincts took over.

In that moment, Captain Daniel Granger, retired, proved why one does not mess with the family of a soldier. They don't hold back in their response.

The Browning snapped up, the gun barking three times rapidly at the one looking at him. The first bullet caught him high in the chest, while the third was weakened by the mask he wore, deflecting the rounds path to end up buried in the wall behind him. However, the Death Eater's luck had run out as the second round hit him in the throat. Disgusting gargling sounds emerged as he drowned in his own blood. His companion beside him stood stunned for a moment, blood splashed all over his mask and robes, behind some sense of self preservation kicked in and he dived down behind the table even as the other man fell to his knees.

Not even paying attention to his first target, Daniel had swung the gun around, completing the arc to stop pointed at the back of the nearest mans head before he squeezed the trigger twice more. Dead before he had a chance to even react to his companions call, the body just slumped down before falling face first down.

Lucius Malfoy was stunned for a moment, before he yanked his wand up to point toward this sudden assailant. "_Kedavra!_" he yelled, completing the spell incantation he'd paused.

Daniel didn't know why the man was pointing a stick at him, but his training kicked in. If someone points something at you, get out of the line of fire! He twisted on his left foot, swinging his body back into the hall. Just in time, as a green bolt of _lightning_ rushed past, to slam into the wall under the stairs, leaving a dark blast mark in the wallpaper. Whipping back around, Daniel fired off another pair of shots towards Lucius, before turning his attention towards his family.

Lucius, having seen the effects of this muggle device, saw the yawning black maw pointed at him and threw himself backwards. The action saved his life, as the bullets shot towards his face. One missed, to impact the wall by the other Death Eaters head, completely ignoring the shield he had raised. That Death Eater stumbled back, falling into the conservatory as he tripped over the raised door edge.

The other bullet caught Lucius on the cheek, carving a furrow across his face as the bullet pared the flesh to the bone before it took off the bottom of his right ear. Lucius screamed in agony as he fell back, the action just prompting more pain as the flesh in that area shifted.

Daniel flinched as two red bolts slammed into the wall end he was tucked behind, as the two holding Emma cast blasting curses at him. Through the dust though he could see the spells leave their wands, but he could not aim squarely without the chance of hitting his sister-in-law. Instead he put two shots off to each side, hoping to at last scare them.

The pair fired to the left of the three missed, shattering a mug and denting the toaster. But one of the other two caught the Death Eater in the thigh, and the man stumbled forward and around as the pain shot through his body.

This was the chance that Emma had been waiting for. While terrified half out of her mind, wracked with fear for herself and her husband, Emma Granger was made of the same stern stuff her daughter was. Swiftly she proved where Hermione had learned how to deal with amorous fools, as her knee crashed into the wounded man's groin powered with all the anger and fear she had. The man gasped, his voice climbing in pitch as he toppled to the floor, curling up into a foetal position, hands covering the region that had never taken such abuse. A sharp wrench get her other arm free, but before she could step away the other man swung round, his meaty left hand clasping around her neck. Desperate she scrabbled for something with her right hand, before her fingers touched the handles of the knives she kept in a block by the fridge. One found it's way into her hand, and with desperation she turned it around – uncaring on how she nicked herself with the blade – and drove it into his gut. The guy gasped in pain, hands falling away to his belly as he staggered back a pace… and promptly fell over his buddy who was still on the floor. Now free of their grasp, Emma threw herself at her husband.

Daniel only caught a glimpse of this, as the other man who had hidden behind the overturned table had joined the fray, casting a string of bolts at him. Daniel had been forced to roll to the other side of the hall as the remaining bit of wall where he had been was torn apart. Raising his gun, he sighted on the table. The guy was casting blind, only an arm poking out over the edge. Unsure as to his exact position, Daniel fired off the remaining four bullets in the clip in a line along the table, hoping that at least one would hit. Yelps of pains turned to screams.

Thumbing the release, Daniel slammed a new clip home and turned just in time to see Emma knife one of the bastards that had been holding her. Rising from his crouch, he looked towards the far corner, where the last two where…

Spells lancing back at him, a deep red one brushing his arm and slicing his flesh like a hot knife through warm butter. Gritting his teeth to hold in the pained gasp, Daniel returned fire, trading spells with bullets. He then paused, hoping…

The remaining masked man stood up, looking towards him to check he was down. Classic rookie fool mistake and Daniel made sure to use the man as an object demonstration, as he unloaded three rounds into his chest. The man staggered backwards, and even under the silvery mask Daniel knew there was a look of shock on his face before he fell back against the wall before sliding down limply.

Behind the counter he was cowering behind – not that he would ever admit to cowering – Lucius scowled deeply as he watched the last Death Eater slump down, gasping as it caused another stab of pain from his ruined face. This was not how this raid was supposed to go! They were supposed to find two helpless muggles and an under-aged, un-prepared witch, still weakened after her injuries in the Department of Mysteries. Not some gun wielding muggle psycho! He was killing them left and right. Already writing off those two he had sent upstairs, he reached for his portkey to head back to the safety of his manor. Then he spied the mudblood's parents across the room, the mother all but dragging the father out of the kitchen and into the dining area. Snarling in glee at the thought of at least killing them, he levelled his wand at Emma.

His snarl made her look up, to see that dreaded wand pointed at her.

"_Avada __Kedavra!_" He yelled, sending the green bolt towards her. He intended to kill her first, and then finish off the father. Let the mudblood cry over the bodies of her parents!

As soon as he'd said that first dreaded word, Emma had panicked, her hands yanking at the doorway, trying to get herself out of the way. She failed, but her flailing fingers caught the edge of the freezer door, and it was flung open just as the spell left Malfoy's wand. The deadly green bolt hit the door dead centre, blasting a large black mark over it. The magical energy tore through the entire unit, burning out the electronics and circuits. The entire freezer went dead.

Lucius was stunned. How _dare_ that muggle bitch block his spell! He was about to unleash another when a bullet skipped off the floor by his foot. Seeing the other man approaching weapon levelled, fear finally took control. "Retreat!" He yelled even as he squeezed the portkey. Lucius vanished in a swirl of colour, before the man behind the table did the same. Daniel turned just in time to see the two who had been holding Emma vanish as well, leaving the others were they lay.

Breathing deeply, Daniel slowly looked around, taking in the devastation that had been wrought. His brother's kitchen looked like it had come from a war torn Third-World country, with the three bodies, bullet holes in the walls, the entryway to the hall in ruins and blood everywhere. Still tense and coiled, he quickly checked the three bodies – making sure they were dead – before reloading once more. Then he allowed his concern for his brother rise up, and he almost sprinted into the dining room where Emma was kneeling on the floor, Nathan's head in her lap. Crouching down besides them, he gently reached for his brothers hand. "Nath?"

Nathan's eyes cracked open, but even with the lids almost closed he could see the pain that filled them. "Dan… you … you chase…"

"Don't talk honey." Emma soothed him, stroking his brow gently. "We're safe now."

"Emma… what is going on here?" Daniel asked levelly, but the anger and tension were there in his voice. "Who the fuck were those guys? And why do they want Hermione?"

Emma sighed before looking up at him. "Dan… it's, difficult…" Before either of them could say thing more a furious banging came from the front door.

"Mr and Mrs Granger? You there?" A youngish sounding woman called out loudly, her tone worried.

Daniel rose swiftly, gun already in hand. Before he could a step though Emma snagged his other hand. "Don't! I know her! She's a friend!" He looked at her blankly, before shrugging off her hand and moving swiftly towards the front door.

Outside Remus sniffed deeply before his face blanched. "Tonks… I smell blood."

"Oh bugger!" Tonks replied, her face going equally as white.

Suddenly the door was opened, and a handgun emerged levelled right at Tonk's forehead. She froze, eyes wide as the black maw of the gun was hovering barely a few scant inches from her. Remus followed the hand holding the gun up to the man behind it.

"Who the fuck are you two?" He growled, his tone clearly stating that he was not someone to mess around with.

"Friends of Mr and Mrs Granger. I'm Remus Lupin. I was one of Hermione's professors for a year." Remus answered slowly, warily watching this clearly toned man. He could smell blood on him, driving the werewolf within him wild with bloodlust.

Daniel frowned, the tension easing. "Professor Lupin? I heard of that name, a couple years back…"

Remus nodded. "Your… niece?" At his nod, Remus ploughed on. "Hermione was a joy to teach sir."

Daniel slowly relaxed, the gun lowering. "Emma claims to know you miss."

Tonk nodded shakily. "We came to make sure she and Mr Granger are okay… They're not, are they?"

Daniel sighed before stepping back, allowing them entry. Both hurried in… and were quickly pulled up short at the sight of the Death Eater body lying at the foot of the stairs, the head twisted at an unnatural angle.

"There's another upstairs, and three more in the kitchen." Daniel stated emotionlessly even as he closed the door. "Nath' and Em' are in the dining room."

Quickly Tonks hurried through, while Remus lingered, fighting down the werewolf's instincts. He had to keep control. Glancing at the man beside him, he noticed the cut across his arm. It had to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, but he showed no sign of having noticed. "Uh, sir…"

"Call me Daniel. I retired from the army the other day."

Nodding, Remus filed that titbit away. "Okay, Daniel, I can heal that, if you want." He pointed towards the savage cut. Daniel took a moment to look at the gash, wincing slightly.

"Damn that's going to leave a mess…"

"Not necessarily…" Remus replied, drawing his wand.

A moment later he was thrown against the wall, the gun pressed against his temple. "You've both with them!" Daniel hissed, anger blazing in his eyes.

Remus swallowed nervously. While he could physically overpower the man before him thanks to his lycanthropy, there was no way to stop him pulling the trigger before he did so. The bullet wouldn't kill him, but it would really, _really_ hurt, and leave one hell of mess. Plus, they were on the same side. "Sir… I can assure you that I would rather die than serve alongside those sick, twisted excuses for wizards. They are the worst of the worst, sick animals that need to be put down. I consider your niece a friend: they consider her nothing more than a toy to play with or an animal to use, abuse and kill as they please."

Daniel stilled, seeing the honesty in the care-worn mans eyes. Slowly he released him, watching him intently even as Remus lifted his wand and drew it along the gash in his arm, muttering something as he did. Daniel's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when the flesh of his arm sealed up in seconds, with no a trace of a scar to hint at the wound afterwards. He looked back to the other man, but Remus had already moved away, following Tonks. Daniel caught up with them by his brother.

"Cruciatus exposure." The pink haired young woman was saying. "We've got to get him to a proper healer quickly."

"St Mungo's won't treat him, since he's a muggle." Remus sighed as he reached down to scoop Nathan up. "I'll take him back to Potter Manor. Lily was training up to be one before she got pregnant, and knowing her, she continued studying even while hiding…"

The girl nodded, gently helping Emma to her feet. "I'll handle things here. You get him to safety."

"I'm going with him." Emma stated firmly, her tone not even allowing any dispute.

"Same with me. That's my little brother there." Daniel said equally as firmly. The fact his gun was still in one hand was a barely veiled threat.

Remus nodded, hardly expecting anything else. "I can only take one at a time. I'll be back as soon as I can." Then he closed his eyes, and turned on the spot, vanishing along with Nathan.

Daniel blinked, before slowly turning towards Emma, who was leaning on the doorframe. The young woman had stepped into the kitchen, and was looking about with horror at the mess within. Thumbing the safety catch on, Daniel laid the gun down on the table before folding his arms across his chest. "Emma…" he started slowly, allowing her to look at him. "…Just what the fuck is going on here? People vanishing into thin air? Stick's that spit coloured lightning? All centred around Hermione? You have some explaining to do…"

* * *

Katie Bell sighed as she walked back home. While it was nice to be back home after spending most of the year at Hogwarts, there were times when she preferred not be here. Her old school friend Annabel had grown up into quite the matchmaker. And her latest goal was to hitch Katie with one of her 'ideal' boyfriends. Thing was, while all of these 'you must meet him!' young men were certainly good-looking, they lacked character. Brainless jocks, as her American cousin would say.

Turning down onto her street, Katie sighed once more, this time in resignation. While it was nice to have a night out and have fun, getting home had always been an issue. She knew that she lived it up more during the summer months, as Hogwarts had no night life, apart from what they could get up to in their dorms. And with more innocent, younger ears close by, they had to reign themselves in more. No wonder she was known as a 'wild one' when she went out during the summer.

Thing was, she didn't have regular transport home. She didn't drive, and after one bad experience years ago her mother had never trusted cabs again. Katie knew her mother was unreasonable about them, but humoured her because she loved her. A friend had given her a lift to close by, and so she ended up walking the last half-mile.

It wasn't so bad, not really, Katie mused. It was a lovely summers evening. While the sun had just dipped over the horizon there was still plenty of light to see with. The streetlights were only just starting to flicker on, most glowing red as they warmed up. There were only a few clouds and…

She froze three doors down from her home, staring at the sky above her families' home. Nothing. But she could have sworn…

Perhaps she had had one too many, she thought, taking another cautious half step. Product of a mind buzzed with alcohol and filled with the stories from the magical world. Too much reading of the horrors from the last…

An image wavered in the air, and she stopped once more, sobering instantly as the blood drained from her face even as the image firmed up.

A ghostly green skull with a snake emerging from the mouth, hissing mavolently.

"No… NO!"

She started running, past the house next to hers before cutting onto her front lawn. There were three figures stood in robes by the front door… that was hanging open ominously.

Her heels clicking against the paving slabs drew the attention of the figures. "Hey miss, stop right there!" A man barked out, but Katie ignored him, didn't even register his voice. Her concern was totally fixated on the house, on her family...

One started to draw a wand, but before they could bring it up the tallest move forwards. Katie found herself being held back from the house by a thick arm across her waist. "Let me go!" She screamed, struggling, trying to escape the hold that the man held her in. "LET ME GO! Where are my parents? Let go of me!" Hysterically she thumped her fist against his chest, which felt like a tree trunk as tears began to run down her cheeks.

Kingsley Shackbolt didn't say anything. He couldn't. The words… he just couldn't find the right ones. How does one tell a child – even one almost an adult – that they are now an orphan? How does one explain to someone that their loved ones have been brutally tortured and murdered?

Feeling her stop struggling, he looked down at her. The young woman was looking back up at him, fear and horror writ across her tear streaked face. But her eyes… she knew already. Likely had known the second she saw the Dark Mark overhead, bathing everything in its sickly green light. But there was an edge of disbelief, a desire to deny what everything pointed towards…

Sadly, he had to dash that hope.

"Miss Bell? I'm Senior Auror Shackbolt. Your parents…" He trailed off.

"NO!" Katie screamed before almost collapsing against him, crying her eyes out. Kingsley sighed before wrapping an arm around her gently, casting about for the female Auror on the team. Normally he would have had Tonks take care of the distraught young woman, but his second had the day off, due to the reading of her cousins Will. Kingsley missed Sirius. His humour and dry wit had lightened things within the Order.

Looking back to the other two, he mouthed 'Find Delaney'. Banes nodded before stepping inside, while Morrison just snorted and put his wand away.

Kingsleys eyes were drawn upwards, to the mocking image of the Dark Mark. This should never have happened, he thought darkly. If Snape was as good a spy as he said he was, they should have known this was going to happen and they could have been lying in wait for the scum to arrive.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as Auror Delaney stepped out of the Bell's home. He'd joined the Order to engage the Death Eater while the Ministry denied the existence of the darkness in their world. But all they'd ended up doing was listen to Snape prattle, guarding the entrance to the Department of Mysteries… and guarding Harry's summer, muggle home. Due to his work, Kingsley often had the late or dawn shifts… but something about the residence, or rather the people within, made him uneasy. He couldn't put his finger on what, exactly, it was about the Dursleys, but something was off. Certainly his 'encounter' with the… man, left much to be desired. Mr Dursley was thoroughly obnoxious, rude and grating. Kingsley had been glad to see the back of him.

Yet his whole attitude towards them – based on their magical ability alone – had set alarm bells ringing within the Auror's mind. He would have investigated a bit, but his Auror duties had expanded and multiplied, now that the Ministry had _finally_ admitted that the Dark Lord was back.

But what really had Kingsley worried he mused, as he passed the emotional train wreck that was Katie Bell to the much more comforting form of Auror Delaney, was that Dumbledore had not attended the Order meeting earlier today. McGonagall had delivered an apology from the headmaster stating that he was sorry to waste all their precious time. Though he had noticed that McGonagall seemed right angry at something, and from her tone, it was Albus himself.

Kingsley froze, a sudden thought coming back to him. None of those who had gone to Sirius Will reading - namely the Weasleys, Remus and Tonks – had turned up, with the exception of McGonagall. Something was going on…

Sighing once more, he turned his attention back to the case at hand. "Delaney, take her back to the Ministry. She doesn't need to see…" He trailed off, swallowing hard. The state the Death Eaters had left the muggle couple in… No good would come of their daughter seeing that.

Especially the message that had been scrawled across the living room wall in, they thought, was the wife's blood.

'_**No friend of Potter will live'**_

As the female Auror nodded and began to lead the distraught young woman away from the house, Kingsley turned back to the front door, taking a deep breath before stepping inside again. It was going to be a long night…


	30. Cleaning the Mess

**A\N:** Hey now, here we are in December. And here's the next chapter. Now, I must confess. This chapter hasn't been beta'd yet. Things have been... difficult for me as of late. Computer decided to go on the frizz for a bit, only got it back to almost normal last week. No data lost thankfully. Howver the muse is just not biting like it used to. As such I've got nearly a whoel chapter complete for a Christmas day update (which'll have some hot lemony goodness), but after that... well, I know where I want to go, but if the muse isn't biting... I'll do my best.

**EDIT 24/12: **Now beta-read.

* * *

Amelia Bones groaned as she rubbed her forehead before looking towards the clock. It was gone midnight, and things were still frantic in the Ministry. The attacks had stopped a couple of hours ago, but the clean up was still ongoing. In addition to the main attacks, there had been half a dozen incidents of 'muggle baiting' and at least one murder and two rapes. The auror's and obliviators would be working through the night. Yet despite the hour reporters had already been pounding on the door, demand answers... not least of which was 'how could this happen?' Once again she mentally cursed Fudge for his totally useless and corrupt administration. The fool had frozen auror recruitment and training, leaving them with barely enough to cover all positions.

Truthfully, she couldn't blame it all on Fudge. Part of the blame rested squarely on a certain Hogwarts professor. Ever since he'd taken over as potions professor thirteen years ago, Severus Snape had set the bar for NEWT entry almost impossibly high. Only a handful each year managed to achieve an 'Outstanding' on their potion's OWL... and those that did more often or not were not the sort who wanted to be aurors. It wasn't just the aurors who were affected though; the country was having to look abroad for healers. Couldn't Dumbledore see the harm he was inflicting on their world by keeping Snape where he was? Was he blinded by other considerations?

Sighing in resignation, Amelia took a long drink from her coffee, though it was nearly cold now. She had far bigger problems right now, namely dealing with the aftermath of the Death Eater attacks. Her team leaders were writing up their formal, full reports now, but they had given her a brief one when they got back.

It had been a mixed night for both sides. The Weasleys and Longbottoms had both managed to repulse the attacks on them... quite a feat, considering that the bulk of the Dememtors had been at those two homes. From the initial reports, credit for that was due to the children. All of whom had been part of the club that Mister Potter had run. In both cases, the Death Eaters had suffered injuries, Madam Longbottom's furious defence making up for the Weasley's numbers. The aurors had arrived just as the Death Eaters had withdrawn, leaving behind one at the Burrow and two at Longbottom Manor. All three now rested in ministry holding cells, patched up enough not to die on them until after Amelia had wrung everything she could out of them. None however, were the suspected remaining 'Inner Circle' members, so what they could get out of them would be limited.

The others had not been so fortunate. By the time they got there, Greengrass manor was aflame, along with the roof of the building downwind. The muggle fire-fighters were swarming the area dousing both buildings, though their attention was mainly on the other structure to stop it burning down like Greengrass manor was. There had been no way to get close to check, but a discrete check of the people in the area revealed no signs of the Greengrass family. With no clue as to their fate, they had to assume they were either captives of the Death Eaters... or they were cremated with their home.

Worst of all however was the fate of the Bells and Lovegoods. Amelia found her stepped over to look out of her office, and into the 'rest area' of the auror office. Both Miss Bell and Miss Lovegood were sat within, both looking totally devastated even while asleep. Katie's parents had been brutally murdered while she had been out, while little Luna had fought off Dementors while her father held back the Death Eaters. He'd died of his wounds just after the aurors arrived to drive the Death Eaters off, only bagging one of the bastards. It also featured the only auror casualty of the night, though it had been close for a couple of others.

Amelia's heart went out to both young women, but they also created a major headache for her. Both were now orphans, and she feared vulnerable to the Death Eaters within the Ministry. Katie Bell would turn seventeen in August, legally making her an adult in their world. But, she was a muggleborn, and still a Hogwarts student as she had just finished her sixth year. Amelia was under no illusions that Malfoy would try something if he thought he could get away with it. It would never lead back to him, of course, but Amelia knew what type of man he was... and who he served. He may have managed to claim innocence years ago, and his money made sure that he was believed, but Amelia had never believed him.

Luna Lovegood was just as much an issue. Malfoy was almost certain to get involved there. She was under-aged, and a pure-blood. Amelia could see the unfairness of the Orphans Law: as a pure-blood, Luna was on the fast track to finding a new home, while muggleborns were more often than not left to rot. Given that all the major attacks had happened against Mister Potter's friends, she expected the Death Eaters to try again. She didn't like to think about it, but Amelia could easily guess the fate of any young attractive woman who fell into the clutches of those monsters. What easier way to capture one than to have the ministry itself deliver her to their door? She had to find someway to block him...

Movement at the entrance drew her attention. Tonks stepped through the office, her hair a no longer pink but a mousy brown. That set alarm bells ringing in Amelia's mind; Tonks hair was a truer indicator of her mood than anything else. Amelia hadn't expected her to come in.

Tonk's approached her. "Director... we need a clean-up crew."

Amelia took in the shocked expression on the younger woman's face before gesturing her inside her office. "Make your report Auror." She stated firmly. The official tone and language seemed to help Tonks pull herself together, as she stood up straighter.

"Acting on a hunch of Har... Mister Potter's, myself and Mr Lupin travelled via apparition to the home of Miss Grangers family." Amelia felt a groan try to escape her throat. Of course, she should have thought of Hermione's parents. She had heard from Susan in previous years how the brilliant muggle-born was making a mockery of all the Pure-bloods supposed superiority. Even if she hadn't been Harry Potter's friend, she'd have been targeted as a matter of pride.

"How bad are they?"

Tonk smiled slightly. "Mr Granger's suffered _cruciatus _exposure, but is otherwise unharmed. Mrs Granger is a little bruised, but nothing serious. She's suffering more from emotional stress."

Amelia frowned. "That doesn't sound like normal..."

Tonk's shivered. "Having a relative who very recently was a member of the British Army visiting had an effect."

Amelia looked at Tonks with concern. "I take it he did not hesitate... or hold back?"

Tonks shook her head. "No. The Death Eaters left five of their number in that house. All dead. The other four were wounded when they escaped... including Malfoy. He was leading them." She shivered once more. "Their kitchen looks like a war zone."

"Where are they now? I'll need to see the bodies, get a magical reversal squad on..."

"Lily Potter's looking after them at Potter manor madam. And... You don't want to inspect the bodies." Tonks looked ill. At her bosses raised eyebrow she took a deep breath. "He broke one guy's neck, stabbed another with a six inch blade, and shot the other three. One was a double head shot from behind at point blank range."

Amelia blanched. She was not as ignorant as others in their world were regarding muggle weapons... and their effects on people. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, Amelia considered the situation.

"I assume Harry and Lily have granted them sanctuary?" At Tonks nod, Amelia pressed on. "Good. They should be safe there. In fact..." She trailed off, thinking about something Hestia Jones had told her in her brief initial report. "Perhaps they would be willing to do the same for others affected by this?"

Tonks shrugged. "I think so. The Greengrasses are already there..."

Amelia bolted up right. "They're alive? You saw them?"

Tonks nodded slowly, a little startled at her bosses' reaction. "Almost all of them. Mr Greengrass is still to catch up... he stayed behind to give his family time to escape."

Amelia slumped in her chair once more. "He's most likely dead then. We haven't been able to get close to their former home yet."

"Former?"

"They set it ablaze." Amelia said softly before she continued her previous thought. "I was thinking more of two other victims of last night."

Tonks looked worried. "Who?"

Amelia sighed once more, filled with regret. "Xenophilius Lovegood died holding back the Death Eaters while his daughter Luna held off a half-dozen dementors until we arrived. His last words were for her to go to Harry. Also, the muggle parents of Katie Bell were also killed. No..." she corrected herself as she shook her head, the scene Kingsley had described running through her mind. "_Butchered_ is the right word."

Tonks summed up the news with one word.

"Bugger."

* * *

At Potter Manor the mood was sombre. The Greengrasses had arrived a couple of hours ago, terrified. Both Dobby and Winky had been back and forth from their manor and the Potter's, bringing their clothing and valuables when the attackers backs had been turned. But the last time she arrived the poor little female elf had been in tears.

She had brought the news of Erikson Greengrasses murder.

Then Dobby had popped in, to report that the Manor was now in flames. It took an order from Harry to stop the little guy punishing himself for being unable to rescue any more items.

The rest of the Greengrass family were currently in one of the ground floor rooms off the Central Hall. From the little they could hear, Eleanor Greengrass was a total wreck, while her daughters were not much better. When the twins had started crying Harry had retreated quickly. He could not handle crying girls.

Though now he was almost buried in one. When Remus had brought her father in, Hermione had gone to pieces and had clung to him desperately. Lily had taken one look before directing Remus into the infirmary, another of the side rooms off the Central Hall.

Now they could only wait, sat in the hall itself, while Lily tended to Mr and Mrs Granger inside. Emma had refused to leave her husband's side, even while Lily treated him. Daniel Granger also had refused to step away from his brother, his tone and steely eyes promising a lot of pain for anyone who tried to enforce a separation. Lily, understanding his cause, had not pushed, only asked that he not get in the way.

So Harry found himself holding Hermione as they sat waiting. Her tears still fell, but the soul-wrenching cries had eased. Hermione's other side was supported by Susan, who wanted to help both her friends but knew Daphne had her family around her. Fleur was behind Harry, hugging him gently even as tears of sympathy ran down her cheeks. She hadn't been part of this family long, but the pain rolling off the others was palpable.

Remus sat a little distance away with the Tonks, discussing the repercussions of what had happened. Harry and Lily had already told them they were free to stay as long as they wished, and Remus knew that Harry would all but force him to, at the very least, take a room here in the guest wing.

The door to the infirmary opened, and heads jerked up as Lily stepped out followed by Daniel Granger. Seeing the questions in all their eyes she smiled lightly, if tiredly. "He's going to be fine." Harry could feel Hermione almost melt with relief at his mum's words. "The curse wasn't placed on him long enough to cause permanent harm. I've giving him some morphine and a watered down dose of Dreamless Sleep. Best thing for him to do while his nervous system settles down again. Might take up to a week for him to recover, but he will recover." There was the certainty of grim experience in her voice.

"And mum?" Hermione asked quietly.

Lily smiled at the younger witch. "She still refuses to leave his side, so I gave her the other half of the Dreamless Sleep dose. She needs the rest."

While Lily had been talking, Harry had been aware of the eyes that were on him. Daniel Granger was staring at the boy who was holding his niece so close. Harry found himself shivering slightly when he met the older man's eyes. This man had a latent threat and intimidation factor that Malfoy Senior would kill for. Facing down the Basilisk three years ago was less scary than facing Hermione's uncle... who had personally killed five Death Eaters, without magic.

Feeling Harry tense, Hermione turned to look at him but stopped when she saw the expression on her uncle's face. "Uncle Dan?"

He looked back at her, his expression twisting into a muddled mixture, as if he were not sure what to think. "Hermione... is it true? You're one of them?"

Hermione frowned lightly. "If by 'them' you mean a witch, then yes I am. But I'm still your niece." Worry began to coil in her gut. "What is it uncle? You don't... don't hate me for this, do you?"

Daniel shook his head. "No, I... it's just... why didn't you tell me?"

Hermione sighed. "You were hardly around, and this sort of thing you can't just put in a letter."

"I see." It was clear from his tone that Daniel didn't. "And who's this boy you're wrapped around?"

Hermione bristled as Harry withdrew slightly. She could feel him closing off, and that would not do. "Harry, this is my uncle Captain Daniel Granger. Uncle..." Daniel started a little at the lack of warmth in her tone. "...this _man_ is my best friend and fiancé Harry Potter." The emphasis she put on 'man' was unmistakable.

Daniel had been stunned when his baby niece called the boy her fiancé. But even he knew of Harry Potter. Hermione's letters home from that exclusive boarding school she started going just before her twelfth birthday had been dominated by talk of young Harry. At that first Christmas she'd talked about him almost exclusively, barely mentioning the things she normally talked about: learning, books and knowledge.

_'So this is the boy that turned little Hermione's head.' _He thought, looking the lad over. He looked undersized, but wiry with lean muscles. But despite the youthful appearance, the eyes that looked back at him held a maturity that was surprising... and well as sadness.

"Pleased to meet you sir." Harry spoke up. "I'm just sorry your family..."

"Harry, don't start on that again." Susan cut him off. "You are not at fault here. Did you tell those Death Eaters to attack Hermione's parents? Murder Daphne's father? Stop blaming yourself for others actions!"

Harry shoulders slumped. "All the attacks are to get at me, though..."

"Harry... I would have been a target anyway." Hermione said softly. "You know Draco would not allow a chance to get back at me pass him by."

"Listen to zhem 'arry." Fleur gently told him as she stroked her long fingers through his hair. "We will 'ave to work on this trait of yours. I cannot marry a man 'hose always taking all the blame for 'hings he has no control for."

Daniel's eyes widened, then narrowed to slits. "What do you mean miss? How could you marry the same man my niece is engaged to?" His eyes drifted to Harry.

Fleur blanched, looking to Hermione for help. Huffing in frustration Hermione stood up, leaving Harry's arms, and stepped between him and her uncle.

"Uncle Dan, let's make one thing clear here. This is my choice, not yours. Now, our case here, while not unheard of, is highly unusual, even in the magical world. But it _is_ the situation we are in, and I for one wish to make the best of it."

Daniel's eyes remained narrowed. "So... what? You willing enter into an _illegal _polygamist marriage?"

"Yes... because I love Harry."

Daniel was silent for several seconds, looking between the set face of his niece and the embarrassed one of Harry's. Slowly he looked towards the other two young witches. "And I suppose you both feel the same?"

Susan spoke up first. "Yes, we do. Although we have other considerations as well, in the scheme of things they are not important to this discussion. I grew up knowing that I would be a second wife. I'm overjoyed that Harry and Hermione have allowed me a place within their family."

Fleur hesitated before speaking. "While my uh... _situation_ is a le'tle different, I too am pleased to be allow entry. It is a testament to 'ermione's character that she trusts us with something 'ike this."

Daniel looked between the two of them, before slowly turning to Lily.

Lily sighed at his look. "My only concern is my son's happiness. Am I comfortable with how things turned out? No, I'm not. But I do understand _how_ it came about. I grew up in the late sixties, early seventies, so my upbringing was much like yours: one man, one woman. But I know my son, better than most really." She smiled at Harry as she tousled his hair once more. "After what he's had to go through, can I really deny him anything that brings him joy?"

Daniel opened his mouth to continue to agree against the injustice he saw was being committed against Hermione, but then Lily's words registered in his mind. "What do you mean by 'what's he's been through'?"

Harry shared a look with Hermione. "I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."

Lily paused in thought, before looking at Harry with a gleam in her eyes. "The Potter family does have a penseive... maybe he should see what has happened to you?"

Harry seemed to fold inwards. After several long moments he said softly. "I guess he should know what being near me means. Actually, everyone should." He looked over his shoulder at Fleur. "I've already told Susan and Daphne, but you deserve to know as well." There was a glimmer of tears in his eyes.

Hermione sigh softly before wrapping her arms around Harry's shoulders, while Fleur and Susan completed the circle. Lily closed her eyes, but kept a hand on his shoulder.

From where he stood, Daniel could hear soft murmuring coming from the huddle. The behaviour of the women before him was not what he expected. Just what in heaven's name was going on here?

It was into this scene that Victor stepped forward, face an incomplete mask, not quite hiding the sympathy he felt. "Madam Potter? I'm sorry, but we have guests."

Lily nodded in reply before stepping away slowly, reluctant to leave Harry, even in the comfort of three of his loves. But duty called. Walking briskly out into the entrance hall, Lily steeled herself and tried to find balance.

Stepping out the front door, her attention went straight to the four figures stood waiting. Tonks and Amelia she recognised right off in the light that spilled from behind her, but the two younger witches she struggled to place in dark.

"Lily..." Amelia said softly as she stepped forwards. "I hate to have to ask more of your family, but I've got a couple of problems here."

Lily glanced at the two young witches again. The older looking brunette had looked up, eyes widening slightly, but the younger blond – who Lily was sure she'd seen before – remained motionless, almost listlessly standing there, looking at nothing.

"Let's talk inside. Should Harry be involved in this?"

Amelia thought for a moment. "Perhaps he'd better. He will be Lord Potter soon, and this will be a legal matter."

At a look from Lily Victor nodded before breaking off towards the main hall. After a few moments Harry, Hermione, Susan, Fleur, Remus and the Tonks joined the group in the meeting room. Once they were all seated, Lily faced her old friend. "So Amelia, what's the problem?"

Madam Bone's sighed deeply. "I'm sure you're aware that there were many attacks last night." At the round of nods, she pressed on. "The main ones were all linked, I'm convinced, by Harry. They went after your friends."

Harry seemed to sink in his seat, head tipping forwards. Susan was the first to react, reaching out and drawing his chin up to look at her. "Now Harry, don't start blaming yourself again." There was an implied command in her words.

"Fortunately..." Amelia cut in, hoping to ease the tension that had arisen. "Most of those attacks were thwarted."

Harry seemed to relax a little, before looking at her with world-weary eyes. "Who did they go after?" He asked, eyes glancing at the two younger witches, mind racing. Why were Katie and Luna here? And what was with Luna's non-expression?

"Both the Weasleys and the Longbottoms repulsed their attacks without loss, only some property damage and minor injuries." She looked unsure for a moment. "I'm told you have all but Erikson Greengrass here..."

"Yes, along with most of their possessions. Our house elves rescued most of them before the fire could claim them. But... they also brought word of Mr Greengrasses death."

Amelia nodded, having already expected that. "I can only hope he went down fighting." Shaking herself, she took in a deep breath. Now for the bad news.

"But... another two families were not as fortunate. Miss Lovegood's father held off the Death Eaters until my Aurors arrived, but died of his wounds. And Miss Bell's parents..." She trailed off, not needing to elaborate.

Harry's eyes darted to the two, alarm and guilt filling them.

"Now, my problem is this: both are orphans. Miss Lovegood is still under-aged, and a pureblood. I almost expect Malfoy to offer a home for her this coming morning. Miss Bell is almost of age, but as a muggle-born, I worry that he'll try something. From the little we've got out of the captured Death Eaters so far, any young women in the families targeted were to be captured and taken back with them, for 'entertainment purposes'."

Nearly all the others around the table scowled or blanched at the thought. It was not hard to realise just what was meant by that phrase.

"Both can stay here indefinitely." Harry stated firmly, earning him a warm look and a hint of a smile from Katie.

Amelia smiled at him. "That would work for Miss Bell, but Miss Lovegood requires a more official offer..."

Harry looked worried. "Are you suggesting..."

"No Harry. I was thinking more along the lines of you adopting her as a sister. Of course, if you think you can handle six witches in bed..." Amelia trailed off, a small smirk on her lips as she watched the varied embarrassed reactions of the younger people in the room. Only Luna didn't react in any way.

After a moment to press down his reaction to Amelia's jest, Harry looked at Luna. He was almost startled to see the almost total lack of her normal animation or spark. She seemed closed off to the world around, her gaze firmly fixed inward. Harry shifted uncomfortably; he knew that he'd skated by such a depression, even dipped into it a little himself earlier this summer. Nothing good came out of such a state. He had a few ideas as to what she was going through, but nothing sure.

But he was sure of one thing: she was hurting, and he and his family could help her.

Rising to his feet, Harry walked round to stand by her chair. Seeing no reaction, he knelt down beside her. "Luna?" He called softly. When she didn't respond, he gently took her hand. She didn't seem to notice, at first. "Luna?"

Slowly she turned to look at him, her eyes dull and almost lifeless, but there was a tiny spark of recognition.

"Luna... I can't say how sorry I am that you've suffered. I do however know roughly what you're feeling right now. Don't allow yourself to sink into that darkness Luna, you know your father would never have wanted you to go there." He saw a glimmer of a tear form in one corner of her eye, but pressed on. "I know he'd have wanted you safe. We can't replace him Luna, but perhaps me, my mum, and the rest of my family can help you heal."

Harry missed the warm smiles that lit up Hermione's, Susan's and Fleur's faces when he said 'my family'. All three knew that it was a big admission for him to say that.

"We're willing to give you a place in our family Luna. A place where you would be safe, where you can let down the walls you've built." Harry had wondered for some time how much of Luna's actions had been an act. "All you have to do is ask, and we'll do everything we can. Even if you don't wish to join the family, you'll still have a place here, ready for you."

There was not a dry eye in the room. Those who knew his history were struck at how much Harry could give of himself, could reach out to someone else who had suffered, was suffering. Despite all the pain and hardship he had suffered, he was still a kind, gentle, giving person.

As a tear tracked down her cheek, Luna nodded. "Okay." She whispered, but as everyone was silent they all heard her.

Amelia looked to the Tonks, who both nodded. "Right, let's knock a set of adoption papers together..."

* * *

In a back room of Malfoy Manor, the self-styled Lord Voldemort sat in his private chamber, head in his heads.

_'Useless. Utterly useless. The whole stinking lot of them.'_

He had been... less that pleased, at the performance of his Death Eaters. The only consolation was that Major Greengrasses attack had also mostly failed... though it had not been due to any fault on his men's part.

Sheer incompetence and clumsiness had alerted the Tonks before they were ready, allowing the elder couple the chance to escape through the floo. None of his minions had heard the destination, so they were lost. They hadn't even thought to destroy the house before leaving.

The Longbottoms and Weasleys had both repulsed his men for no losses of their own. The Weasleys had held out with a mixture of number of wands and the sheer craziness of whatever they were tossing out of the one window. The Longbottoms had those blasted ancient defences... not entirely unexpected, after his experience with the Bones ancestral home, but certainly unpleasant. He didn't care about the losses he'd taken; to Voldemort all his minions were expendable.

The attack on the Lovegoods had almost succeeded, but who could have foreseen that the frail waif of a girl could cast a patronus! Still, the Quibbler had been silenced, with the press damaged and the editor dead. Lucius might be able to work the Ministry system and get her 'adopted' by the Malfoy Family; as a pureblood, she was on the fast track, in a system that Lucius had designed.

A scowled formed on his face however when he thought about Lucius, and the raid on the muggle Granger family. THAT was a disaster! Five dead Death Eaters, the remaining four wounded, including Lucius... all due to _one_ muggle! How was this even possible! Muggles were helpless against magic!

It had only been with the muggle Bell family that things had gone right, and even then not perfect, as the mud-blood had been out. Still, the message left for her should destroy her will to resist. Fear was the ultimate weapon, in Voldemort's opinion.

But what to do going forwards? The Magi-SS were deadly and competent, but were loyal only to Major Greengrass. And he saw himself as an _equal_ to him... as if anyone could ever be Lord Voldemort's equal! He was going to have to remind the Major of just who he was dealing with. Lord Voldemort had no equal.

Still, the attacks should have achieved their purpose. Potter should start to see his friends turn away from him, abandoning him for fear of being the next target. With each one the despair would set in more, until he breaks, leaving Voldemort free to focus on Dumbledore. That wily old man was a major symbol to the masses. Taking him out would destroy their morale and crush any resistance. Once he was gone, the Ministry would be his for the taking.

Until that time however, he needed to build up the fear in the people, make them quail once more at the very idea of his presence. While the fear of his name was still strong, these latest failures were hurting his image to strike without mercy, unstoppable. With a couple more victories for the Light, the people might start standing up and fighting back. This he could not allow.

But how? His Death Eaters were thugs and bullies, not soldiers. They could strike terror into the hearts of others, but wavered when someone stood up to them. His Inner Circle was made of sterner stuff, but they were almost all rotting in Azkaban now. Only Lucius was available, and he was better suited to working the wheels in the Ministry. Or will be once that wound was healed. It would require a glamour as well, something he knew would drive the vain man spare.

Bellatrix's continued silence however worried him. Where was she?

* * *

"It's a mess, isn't it?"

Fleur nodded to Susan's question, too tired to actually speak. It had been a long, difficult and frantic night. The Tonks sudden arrival and news had set all their hearts racing, then the worry over their friends... Susan was right. It was a mess.

The two of them were pretty much the only ones left up. Harry had to almost carry his mum upstairs, as she had been asleep on her feet, exhausted. The Greengrasses had finally fallen asleep, spread between two of the guest rooms. Susan and Fleur had just checked on them; the scenes within had drawn tears from both young women. The twin adorable young girls were curled up together, clearly having cried to sleep together. Daphne had her younger sister Astoria on her lap, both having fallen asleep as well. But the grief and loss was still on their faces.

As they climbed the steps to the Potter's private wing, Susan sighed in resignation. "Harry's going to be beating himself up about all this."

"'e does seem ze type who 'ill accept, uh... responsibility, for things beyond 'is control."

"Exactly. We've been trying to break this habit, but..." Susan sighed once more. "It's deeply embedded in his psyche. Bloody Dursleys..." She muttered the last two words.

Fleur frowned lightly, having heard her. "'is relatives? You think zey are responsible for his attitude? I 'eard that his home was not ze most welcoming..."

Susan shook her head. "Fleur, whatever you heard... the truth is far, far worse."

Fleur felt deep within her a flame ignite. "What do you know?" She asked softly, slowly.

Susan could see the anger building in the taller blonds eyes. She didn't fear it however; it matched her own whenever she thought about the Dursleys. "Harry doesn't like talking about it, but we managed to get him to open up some. What he went through..." Susan closed her eyes against the tears that she felt welling up. "There was not a shred of warmth or love for him in that house growing up."

Fleur shivered, from rage or sadness even she was unsure. Perhaps both. "What do you say to us _visiting _those…" she trailed into French for a few moments, her tone clearly stating that she was letting loose a vile curse "…and voicing our... _displeasure?_" Sparks danced around her closed fists.

Susan grinned in reply. A grin that very rarely appeared on her face. One full of deviousness and malice. "Oh, we have a plan already. We talked to the police earlier this week. The highest levels of the force are looking into things now. And it seems Gringotts has some issues with the Dursleys as well..."

Her expression was now copied on Fleur's face. "Tell me more..."

* * *

Far to the north another was still awake. Unlike the two young ladies however, this man was not kept up by anger and concern, but by remorse and guilt.

There was only one thought echoing through Albus Dumbledore's whiskey soaked mind. _'What have I become?'_

He had no idea as to how long he'd sat there in the chamber where Sirius's will had been read. When he'd finally raised himself from the chair he'd fallen into, he found himself in another meeting with the Goblin High King. Worryingly, he'd had one of his many axes resting against his seat when Dumbledore had entered.

Ragnok had, as ever, been brutally blunt and straight to the point. Dumbledore was in _serious_ trouble for several things that had come to light... not the least of which, attempting to replace a valid, sealed will with a fraudulent copy. To say nothing of what he tried to do in regard to Mister Potter and Miss Granger.

In light of these actions, he was barred from Gringotts till such time as a full audit and investigation into his finances and accounts was completed. At that time, he would be required to come in and explain everything he'd done. Albus was not looking forward to that day, as he knew that in the light of cold, harsh logic, his actions were not a good reflection on himself.

But... as much as such actions by the goblins hurt, it was the words of Lily, Harry and the other pupils which hurt the most. Thinking about the way the goblins would look at his money brought back miss Greengrass's advice. Once he returned to Hogwarts he'd asked Minerva to make his apologies to the Order while he dealt with some things in his office. Once there, he'd removed his pensieve from its storage place... then had sat for several long minutes, unmoving, before finally transferring the memories currently in it to a suitable container. Then, with great reluctance, he'd started drawing out the memories of everything he'd done in regard to Harry Potter. Then, hesitantly, he'd dipped his head in.

What he experienced within was what led to his current state. When he finally emerged, the first thing he'd done was call for one of the school's house elves to bring him one of the cases of firewhiskey from the schools stores. He normally didn't drink it, but sometimes, like now, it was the only thing that would help.

He was now half way through the third bottle, but the images were not fading. While he knew that everything he'd done was for a good cause, from the outside, he could see what the others saw: his actions were not those of a good man.

Leaning back, he ran over the old plan in his head. He had to assume it was now defunct, given what he guessed Lily had been saying earlier. If it was true that the Horcrux in Harry's scar was gone, then he no longer had to die to defeat Voldemort.

In some ways it changed nothing. The effects of Harry sacrificing himself would be the same. Better even, as he would be giving up everything to save everyone. But convincing him to do so... that would be almost impossible.

The planned marriage with Miss Weasley was certainly defunct now. The chances of engendering feelings between them were non-existent now. Yet, in a way, the clear bonds forming between Harry and the young girls around him kind of did the same thing the marriage would have: By taking Miss Greengrass in, he showed that redemption was possible.

The surprise had been Mrs LeStrange. Harry had let her redeem herself, though his words sent a chill through Albus. His promise of swift and terrible vengeance if he was betrayed was deeply worrying.

Maybe, he thought as he drained the glass, maybe the plan was not as ruined as he thought. Harry was still the one prophesied to defeat Riddle once and for all. That was the most important thing, after all. Perhaps the other objective, restoring the social order he'd grown up with, could be set aside to ensure that there _was _a hero to save them all. Albus was not blind; he could easily see Harry deciding to abandon the country to its fate... its not like the government had endeared themselves to him. He could only hope that his sentiments to his friends over-rode his disgust with the magical community. Certainly the morale boost of having Lily back from the dead would lift spirits... although Albus still doubted that she was truly Lily Potter.

Still, even if it was her, Albus was still the master of the game. He held the winnings cards; now all he had to do was play them right... He paused at that thought, before shaking himself and pouring another measure of whisky. He had to stop trying to control everything. He now understood how others likely felt about his actions and words. He was going to have to allow Harry a chance to dictate his own path… as much as it pained Albus not to be in control. But the situation demanded it. Harry was too important for Albus to risk angering him. He doubted it would take much more for the young man to decide that the Wizarding World was not worth saving and leave the country. And if he did…

A cold shiver ran up the old man's spine.

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning, he felt incredibly warm and safe. Wrapped in softness that protected him from the rest of the world... and drove the nightmare of last night away. It was only when he opened his eyes that he realised just how that feeling came about.

He was lying in the centre of the master bed. But while he'd gone to sleep alone, sometime afterwards he'd been joined by two very curvy and soft women. His head was nestled between their wondrous breasts like it was a precious egg, both holding him close to their bodies. Like any red-blooded male would, for the first few minutes he just relished the feeling, perfectly content to lie there between the two.

When he was a fraction more awake, the sight of the red hair on one of the witches caused his heart to freeze. It had been a dream of his since he'd been young for his mother to come back and take him away from the Dursleys. Finding her, bringing her back to the world of the living, had been an incredible joy for him. But... It had taken a while, but that Monday, when they'd brought her back, he remembered her words... about seeing everything he'd experienced... through his eyes. Suddenly he hadn't been able to stay in the same room with her, despite his own need to be with her. Lily had finally called him to her side, before gently telling him not to fret. She had tried to give him _some _privacy over the years. But he should not allow what he knew _now_ to affect him. He hadn't known she was with him, seeing everything he saw. Whatever she saw, she would not tell anyone. Then she'd reiterated how proud of him she was, of how he'd handled things. Mostly, she'd corrected herself, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

Right now though, he was worried. He'd been enjoying the sensations of snuggling into these two warm, soft female bodies. And like any young teenaged male, his arousal had grown. If one of these two was his mother...

Slowly he twisted his head enough to look at the red-head's face... and breathed a sigh of relief. It was Susan who had snuggled into him. Now that he looked again, he saw that her hair was too light to be his mothers. Susan's hair was more a reddish brown in colour, rather than the deep, rich red of his mother's or the fiery red of the Weasleys.

Rolling his head, he looked at the second witches face to see it was Fleur. She looked so angelic as she slept. He noted with some amusement that with him pressed between their bodies – and having slid down between them – that both witches had curled around him, bringing their heads almost to within kissing distance. A small moan escaped his throat as that image played through his head.

"Pleasant dream, mon a mie?" His eyes snapped open to see Fleur's blue-grey eyes half-open and watching him, a smile on her lips.

"Er... yeah."

"Care to share Harry?" Susan asked without opening her eyes. Her left thigh shifted, rubbing the underside of his erection. Harry suddenly realised that with the way the two witches had wrapped themselves around him, his morning issue was now protruding between the thighs they had resting across him. "Must be a good dream, to get such a reaction..." Susan said saucily.

Fleur quirked an eyebrow, before she too moved her thigh... down his body. Harry's eyes widened further when he realised that her leg was rubbing bare skin against him, just before the soft skin of her leg pressed against his cock. Fleur's eyes widened too as she felt him. "Non..." she whispered. Then her hand slipped down his chest before she reached under her leg to wrap around him. "Merde..."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Er, Fleur... much as I like the attention... Fleur?" The older French witch snapped out of the trance she appeared to be under.

"Yes?" There was a breathless quality to her response.

"I need the bathroom." Harry said quietly.

"Oh... oh! Pardon." She replied, releasing her hold on him and rolled off him. Once Susan, her face flushed now, did the same Harry almost leapt up and nearly fled into the bathroom. Two sets of eyes watched him go.

"'E is still uncomfortable with intimacy, no?"

Susan sighed in resignation as she rolled back to face Fleur. "Yes. We – me, Hermione and Daphne – have tried to ease him into it, but his history..."

Fleur nodded sadly in reply.

* * *

With the late night that everyone had had, it wasn't till nine that the first person joined Harry and Emily in the kitchen the next morning. "Morning mistress Lily." Emily called with a light tone, trying to ease the depression that Harry had come down with. He'd arrived shortly after her, his face guarded as he mechanically sorted out tea and coffee.

Lily smiled sleepily as she sank down onto one of the stools at the central counter. Much like the rest of the manor the kitchen reflected the size of the manor. She'd told an eager Harry how past generations of Potters had generally preferred to eat gathered round the central counter rather than use the massive formal dining space... a tradition that Harry fully embraced.

"Morning... and thank you." Lily replied groggily as a mug was set before her. Lifting it with both hands, Lily gently sipped at the brew, her eyes closing as she savoured the tea.

After a minute she looked up towards Harry. "How'd you sleep sweet-heart?"

Harry shrugged in reply. "Okay, I guess." He paused for a moment. "No dreams, that's always a plus."

Lily frowned lightly, sensing that he was trying to evade her, but at that moment Fleur and Susan walked in, closely followed by Remus then Tonks. The pleasantries exchanged lacked conviction; none of those gathering could forget the events of the previous night.

A few minutes later a bell rung, indicating that someone had apparated into the grounds. A glance at a glass frame on the wall showed an image of Amelia Bones. It was only a couple of minutes later that she joined the gathering in the kitchen. Seeing her face, Emily silently poured a large mug of coffee out.

"You're a life saver..." Amelia said when she was offered the mug. Susan looked at her aunt worriedly, recognising the signs of an all-nighter.

"Auntie?"

Amelia looked up at the gathering of people in the kitchen. Sighing she set the mug down on the counter. "Good news first. The adoption papers for Miss Lovegood have gone through without contest or issue." Smiles broke out on several faces, though Luna's remained blank, her eyes staring off in to the distance. Amelia pressed on.

"The code used to lock down the floos was one that belonged to a Department Head who died nine years ago." She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I've had that code removed from the lists to stop them using it. In addition to the five killed at the Grangers, we captured four Death Eaters. Based on past attacks, that means that Voldemort has lost just over an entire attack team. He seemed to have only a half dozen of those in the last war, so this is a setback for him."

Remus frowned. "But not much of one, right?"

Amelia nodded unhappily. "No. Most of those he lost are low level, junior ranked ones. Though one of the fatalities was George Goyle, believed to have been one of his inner circle." Her eyes fastened on Daniel Granger, narrowing slightly.

In reply the ex-soldier shrugged. He didn't understand everything, but he got the meaning. "Opp's." He said, not one bit repentant.

Harry looked up. "So what now?"

Amelia looked kindly at him. "That, Mister Potter, is your call."

Harry looked around the kitchen, seeing every set of eyes on him. Shivering, he leaned forward, planting his elbows on the counter as he tried to force his nerves down.

"Okay... First off we need to get you set up properly. Victor..." He turned his head towards him. "Can you see to the other manors?"

Victor nodded. "I'd best call the Masons. They're a local building firm, been going for centuries. It was that family that built most of the manor. If there is anything that needs doing to those buildings, they would be the best to do it."

Harry nodded. "Right. Start with the smaller homes, then once we sort out which family has the manors, work on them. Professor..." He looked towards Remus. "Can you help with that?"

Remus nodded.

Harry's eyes slid to the two sisters who were standing at the back of the group. "Bellatrix... I want you to give Amelia everything you know about Tom, his followers, hideouts... the lot." Amelia had been made aware of the details of the sister's vows to Harry the previous evening.

"Right..." Harry continued, the nervousness clear in his tone. "Uh, Dobby and Winky can start shifting Luna's belongings here, uh..." His eyes darted back and forth. "...Mum, could you look after Luna?" At her concerned nod, Harry shifted to his feet. "The rest of you... uh, take it easy. I need to think." He rapidly exited the kitchen, walking quickly across the main hall towards the front doors.

Confused looks were shared between those gathered round the table... except from Lily, who looked after him with sadness. Catching Susan's eye, Lily tipped her head in the direction he'd gone. "Go with him. He needs his close friends close, even though he doesn't realise it yet..."

The younger redhead nodded before swiftly standing. Fleur also stood before the pair hurried after the young man who had captured both their hearts.

* * *

**A\N:** And there we are. Once my beta gets back I'll re-upload the chapter. Next time we explore the manor grounds a bit, Hermione and Daphne talk, we look in on Snape, while Harry gets some comforting...


	31. Comfort & Plans

**A/N: **Here's the Christmas Eve special for you! We've got some hot and steamy MFF loving, perfect to warm you up if you're in a cold country right now! I plan to post another chapter New Years Eve too, before returning to our regular routine. The Muse got going again...

In response to review comments, I've reposted the address for the map of Potter Manor into my Author page. You still have to Copy-Paste, but at least it's not stripping the address anymore (not sure ATM how to make it a direct link)

UPDATE 5th June: More sheering of the loving...

* * *

Stepping out of the front door and into the bright morning sunlight, the two witches looked about for a moment, trying to spot Harry. Susan was the first to do so. Tugging on Fleur's arm she pointed towards the long garage to their left. Harry was trudging past it, head bowed. Together the two witches sprinted across the gravel drive to flank him as he turned onto an area of worn grass that headed off between two outcroppings of rock. Silently they took an arm each, but neither said anything... neither could think of anything to say.

The strip of grass joined the side spur of a gravelled drive, and they turned to follow it. A few yards along though they stopped. The drive split once more, the one path leading into the cleft ahead, while the other bore to the right and rose up the incline. Through a gap in the trees they could see one of the smaller manor houses built on a higher level. Despite the clearly worn and neglected appearance, the exterior spoke of class, elegance and history.

"Think Nathan and Emma would like that?" Harry asked quietly. Susan nodded as she considered Harry's idea.

"I think you're right Harry. I know they would love being near Hermione."

Harry half smiled. "That's what I was thinking. I've already done enough to separate her from them. Giving them a home here repays at least a bit of that."

Susan rolled her eyes. "Harry... you know that's not true. You're not responsible for any separation."

Harry shrugged before he started to follow the left fork. Fleur shared a look with Susan before they followed. In her mind Fleur was thinking, considering. Harry appeared to be skirting the edge of a seriously dark funk. They had to get him away from that...

The drive they were following ran along the bottom of a gully, the earth and rock faces to either side rising to about thirty feet. They weren't shear, but climbing up them would be a serious endeavour. It was about five minutes later that they came to the end of the drive... and found one of the oddest house's Harry had seen, though it was not as strange as the Burrow. It was another of the small manors, one which Harry had had trouble understanding from the relatively small footprint on the map. Now he saw how it gained that title. It was built into the slope on the right, and had five floors, the topmost on the level at the top of the slope.

Harry leaned back as he looked over the structure. "What do you think?"

Susan smiled. "Daphne's family, I think."

Harry nodded. Beyond where the drive turned to enter the garage included with the home the trail continued on down the gully, which appeared to slope downwards.

Despite the events of last night, it was actually a pleasant walk, Fleur mused. Very refreshing and relaxing. She had half a notion that the Potters had deliberately created this walk precisely for this effect. The incline down was gentle as they walked, passing a footpath that switched back and forth up the sharp incline to their left. The right however was dropping away, trees embracing them with warm scents.

They stepped out into an open area, the sun shining brightly down on to them. The path had turned to the left slowly in a great long bend. To their left the top half of the outcrop, which had capped at sixty feet above their heads, had become nearly sheer rock, with what appeared to be an old round watchtower built at the point. Then it stopped, and now they had a grassy hillock. Too steep to climb easily, but at the ideal angle...

"'arry, lets stop for a bit." She said softly, stepping over to lay back against the bank, finding a slight hollow to sit in. She patted the space next to her, clearly indicating what she wanted. Harry looked for a moment before sitting down himself. Fleur huffed at the space he'd left, before snaking her arm around him and almost pulling him into her side. Before Harry could protest Susan had sat herself down on his other side, taking up the remaining space and pressing him between them.

"Uh, ladies..." Harry began.

"Non. Just enjoy the moment 'arry." Fleur whispered, cuddling into him. Susan did the same, looking out at the view they had, as the trees to their right only came up to knee height now, being planted much further down the hill. Looking out, they had a wonderful view of the English midlands in summer, with its rolling hills and rural landscape. Even the signs of man's habitation – the town in the middle distance, the thread of the M25 – were turned into picturesque elements of the larger whole.

Harry, looking out over the land, felt his inner turmoil settle down some. The peace and tranquillity sunk into him, allowing him to regain some balance and enjoy the company he had.

Susan he'd been getting to know lately, and he found the forthright, honest and down-to-earth former Hufflepuff to be a joy to have around. She was a light-hearted, even a bit mischievous, young woman, but she also knew when to get serious and put real effort in. He found he was growing to love her all the time.

Fleur, in contrast, he'd known a little about for longer, but she was still something of a mystery. It wasn't hard to like her physical charms, but Harry knew that there was much more to her than her appearance or her Veela heritage. While he knew very little about Veela, the emotion in her eyes when she looked at him told him what when she said she desired him it was the truth.

They sat together like that for a little while, until the intense sunlight began to make Harry sweat. Sighing he eased out from between them. "We should be getting back to the others." Wordlessly Susan and Fleur stood as well, each slightly disappointed at not staying longer, but when they linked their arms through his he reacted and made it mutual. His acceptance warmed both their souls.

Together they continued along the path, which was broad and firm here. Susan noted with interest some old hoof–prints in the dirt, making her think that at one time the Potter had ridden horses along this track. Slow the path climbed upwards again, the trees to the right rising up slowly. Towards the end Harry paused before looking back along the top of the ridge. His chuckle drew both witches attention.

They saw that the small lake that was next to the main manor came right up to the top of the ridge. In fact it was just over, the water level about an inch above. A hazy strip nearly a foot high ran along the ridge, holding the water back.

"I read about that last night." Harry commented, waving his hand at the strip. "When he created this lake, Richard Potter laid a barrier ward line along the rim. So from the other end, there is no sign of the ridge."

Fleur nodded, jaw slightly hanging as she looked into the micro-climate that had been created around the lake. She had to look back to the other side of a large boulder at the English woodland that lay before them. She looked again at the lush Caribbean inlet, including the waves that lapped gently across the water. It sent a pang of longing through her, as it reminded her of her childhood home. The Delacours lived on the south coast of France, with their own small private stretch of Mediterranean beach. While England was a wonderful country, there were times when she found herself longing for a simple touch of home.

Feeling the sun beating on his back Harry turned and stepped into the trees, following the path. It came down to the bank of the small river that fed the lake, the main lawn and manor just visible as glimpses between the trees on the far side. The quiet warmth made him feel comforted... but the feelings from last night began to rise once more. He felt guilt that those who died last night – Katie's parents, Luna's and Daphne's fathers – would not a get a chance to experience this feeling once more. His shoulders began to slump once again...

Behind him Susan and Fleur could see his guilt dragging him down once more, and they looked at each other.

"He is so..."

"I know. Normally Hermione would cheer him up..."

Fleur was silent for a moment. "Would some, _affection_, work, you 'hink?"

Susan nodded slowly. "I think so... He responds better to actions than words. If we show him how we don't blame him, that we still love him…" She looked askew at Fleur "But what are you not saying?"

Fleur sighed. "It may 'e best that I do 'his alone... I do want to make 'ou... _uncomfortable._"

"What? Why?"

"It is likely 'hat, as I am Veela, and Veela are a passionate race, that if we both comforted him, I would... make love to you, as well."

Susan flushed red. "Oh my!"

Fleur nodded. "I know 'hat 'he English are more... conservative, 'han 'he people in my country..."

Susan cut her off. "Fleur, don't worry. It's not like I've not considered that such things might happen. It's just, a bit of a shock." She then smiled deviously. "I'm sure Harry won't mind!"

Fleur was smiling now. "'ogether then?"

"Together."

They looked forwards once more, to see that while they had talked they had dropped back, allowing Harry to push ahead. He had stopped on a wooden footbridge that cross the large stream, leaning on the railing staring into the water flowing by underneath. As they approached the unaware teen, Fleur looked him over. He was far more attractive now, dressed in fitted clothing suitable for summer, a light, short-sleeved polo shirt and simple, light trousers. Stepping up either side of him they both took an arm once more.

"Harry..." Susan began. "This guilty brooding is _so_ unbecoming."

"You are not at fault 'ere 'arry. As we 'old you last night." Fleur added, prompting him to look at her.

Harry sighed. "I know. It's just..."

"'othing." Fleur cut him off, using her free hand to pull his head round to face her. "Stop 'hinking 'arry. Just... feel our love for 'ou." And with that she lowered her head and kissed him gently.

Or least, _intended _to kiss him gently. When their lips connected a burning rush of desire ripped through her, igniting her passions. She pressed her mouth more firmly onto his, her tongue trailing over his lips. She scooted closer, making sure to press her breasts into his shoulder. When his lips opened in surprise at her contact, her tongue slipped inside a little, enough to tease and entice.

Feeling him get into the kiss Fleur allowed more of her passion to be unleashed, and her tongue pushed further in as she all but moulded herself against his flank, her hand now caressing his chest through the thin cotton covering. Her Veela nature rippled out, infusing the three of them with desire. Veela, by their nature, were sensual beings, but a little known fact about them was the fact that when aroused, they tended to 'broadcast' that feeling on a wide band. Anyone in the vicinity of a Veela feeling the mating urges would feel an echo of their passion. It was why Veela usually tried to mate well away from others, as often their broadcast caused others to act on those impulses, with potentially embarrassing consequences. A Veela could learn how to minimise their broadcast, but it took years of training.

On his other side, Susan watched with a sense of awe and arousal. She could almost feel the passion Fleur was giving out, and seeing the way she enticed Harry was becoming quite the erotic sight for her. A small part of her wondered why she wasn't getting massively jealous of Fleur. There was some, but it was mainly centred on the fact that the older French witch had Harry's attention right now. But she had no real resentment.

As if hearing her thoughts the two parted, before Fleur nodded towards her. Harry turned to look at her, and she was pleased to see the passion and desire coursing through his wonderful eyes. Smiling she tipped her head and met his lips with hers, allowing her hand to rise up and tangle into his hair.

Fleur smiled as she watched the two make out. Being what she was, she could sense the desire and feelings they shared. Harry may not be very good at expressing his feelings right now, but Fleur could sense it. She could feel her passions rise, and knew that none of them could stop now. As Harry and Susan continued to kiss, she looked about carefully around for a suitable spot for them to take this further, as she believed it would. The middle of a footbridge in the open was not the place for such a union. Then she saw, just upstream, a small clearing that had one edge the bank. It was all but hidden from the path, but Fleur could a route through to it. Looked back to the pair she saw that Harry was now kissing Susan's collarbone, her top pushed off that shoulder. Feeling her eyes on her, Susan opened hers to look back. Smiling warmly, Fleur gently pulling on Harry's shoulder. "Come on 'arry, lets take this somewhere more comfortable."

Harry just nodded and allowed her to lead him back to shore and then down the narrow path she'd seen, Susan following clutching his other hand. Stepping into the grove Fleur sighed with bliss. It was perfect. An open area of soft grass with a willow casting shade overhead. The river burbled to one side while cherry blossom filled the air with a lovely scent. Turning quickly she kissed Harry once more before pulling back to allow Susan to do the same. Standing at three points of a triangle both girls leaned forwards to kiss him on his cheeks.

Then they both went to kiss him again, meeting in the middle. They shared a sloppy three-way kiss for a moment before Fleur, acting on her nature, turned her head slightly and kissed Susan more than Harry. Susan reacted, turning to meet her... and then both witches were engaged in a passionate lip-lock, eyes closed in bliss even as their tongues duelled.

Harry could not believe what he was seeing happen right in front of him. He had to take a step back to make sure. It was highly arousing to see these two beauties kissing so passionately. When he took another step both let go of him to hold each other, Susan's hands on Fleur's hips while the slightly taller blond beauty cupped the redheads face. All his previous thoughts and concerns fled his mind, leaving nothing but passion and desire.

* * *

Hermione wiped at her eyes as she stepped out of the infirmary. Her father had awoken, and while still clear wracked with pain, it was clearly much less than he'd been suffering last night. He'd spoken softly with her, not wanting to wake Emma who was still asleep on the next bed.

She'd tried to apologise for dragging them into this mess, but her father had had none of it. She couldn't help being what she was, who she had fallen in love with. He reminded her that they had talked about this... they just had not expected the Death Eaters finding them so easily and quickly. She was not at fault for following her heart. Despite the pain of seeing her father hurt, his words lifted Hermione's spirits.

Now she'd decided to check on her... just what were they all now? Friends? Lovers? Whatever they were now, she knew that at the least Harry and Daphne would need comforting. Knowing him like she did, Harry would be blaming himself, while Daphne had actually lost her father...

Hermione paused as another name popped into her head. Luna. She'd lost her father too, making her an orphan now. Glancing about, she spied Luna sat in one of the sitting rooms, with Lily beside her. It looked like Lily was trying to comfort the younger girl. Hermione watched for a few moments. Luna didn't speak at all, but it appeared she was at the least vaguely aware of Lily. Deciding to leave her with Lily for now, Hermione moved off again, looking for Daphne.

She turned out of the Grand Hall and into the kitchen, and then followed through into the dining hall that formed the smallest, fourth arm of the main manor. The main table was not rectangular but a large oval, with a fire pit in the centre. Smaller round tables were along the sides. The head of the main table was to the back of the wing, facing the rest of the manor. A great, wide arch linked the dining hall to the Grand Hall directly opposite the office and Entrance Hall. Turning left, she passed through a door to the left of the library door.

Stepping outside, Hermione breathed deeply of the fresh air before opening her eyes again. The path she stood on ran down the side of the Family wing, with a large lawn to her left before it reached the trees or the smaller part of the lake. Stone columns separated her from the grass, supporting the outer wall of the family manor. Further along the stone turned right around the end of the wing, with a high rockery beyond it, which grew into the outcropping that bordered the lawn on that side. A round tower rose from that outcrop, atop which Hermione knew was the manor's owlery.

Walking down the path, she followed the trail past some bushes... and stepped out into the beach area at the eastern end of the lake. It was noticeably hotter than the rest of the grounds, and Hermione felt sweat start to form. The beach itself was a crescent of pale, almost white sand, bracketed with dark rock and backed with palm trees and broad-leafed plants more suited to the Caribbean.

And sat on the beach, knee's draw up to her chin was Daphne.

Hermione sighed before stepping down. Looking around, she felt an impulse to walk barefoot. Quickly she slipped her shoes and socks off, the sand almost hot beneath her feet as she set her trainers next to the low-heeled sandals that she saw were close by. The sand was fine and soft, barely sticking to her skin as she walked over to sit by her friend. For a minute she didn't say anything, just looked off across the constructed inlet, letting her eyes run along the 'horizon' to the short cliff to the right with the ruined tower above. Crookshanks was sunning himself on one of the rocks close by, sprawled out as only a cat could.

"I suppose you feel pretty terrible right now?" Hermione said after a bit hesitantly.

Daphne sighed. "Honestly... I'm not sure what I feel. I mean, I miss him. But..." Daphne sniffled, fighting back tears. Wordlessly Hermione wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her the support she needed. "He told me, as we were saying goodbye that he knew he wasn't going to be coming. Hermione, he knew that he was going to die."

The two of them were silent for a moment, Hermione gently hugging Daphne. The sense of comfortable companionship eased some of Daphne's pain and heartache.

"He bought you time to live... with his life." Hermione said gently. "That makes him a hero."

Daphne smiled slightly. "I admit, we didn't have the best relationship. I think he had been hoping for a son, to prove his uncle wrong." Daphne now reciprocated Hermione's action, wrapping her arm around the brunette's waist.

Hermione smiled at the closeness they now shared... but a small bubble of guilt disturbed her inner peace. Sighing she decided that it was best to air it out. "Daphne... I feel like I'm in a way responsible for all this. If I hadn't said we should do things formally..."

Daphne brought her other hand around to still Hermione's lips with a finger. "You know as well as I that that made no difference. Barely anybody reads those announcements in the Prophet. Yes, he has spies in the Ministry, but remember what we realised? He would attack us at some point sooner or later, with or without that alliance notification we had to submit to the Ministry. We just never expected my great-uncle to have a force already here. Our wards would have held off a normal Death Eater force. Moreover, your home address would be impossible to get from within the Ministry Underage Muggle-Born Monitoring Office... it's about the only department that isn't corrupt." Daphne frowned. "The only one that I don't get is Bell. Her connection to Harry is slight, isn't it?"

Hermione had wondered about that herself, but with what Daphne had said she started to put the pieces together. "It has to have been Snape. It's the only way they could have gotten mine and Katie's home addresses... by him accessing the records at Hogwarts. As for why attack Katie... what do we know about Snape... aside from him being a greasy git who turns a blind eye to the activities of the Junior Death Eaters?"

Daphne's frown deepened, wondering where Hermione was going with this. Quickly she ran through all the attributes that Snape could be labelled with... "Vindictive." She breathed, her eyes widened. "He's vindictive and hold grudges."

Hermione nodded. "You just need to look at how he treats Harry over the trouble he had with Harry's father to see how far he'd go. Ever since our first year, Gryffindor has won every single Quidditch match against Slytherin. I remember McGonagall commenting that the cup had become almost a fixture in Snape's office at that point. Since then we've won it back four out of five years. Now, the only two of that winning team left are Harry and Katie. It's not much of a stretch to think he'd decide to get some revenge and add her name to the list of targets."

Daphne shuddered. "No, it's not. But the question that really concerns me, why the hell does Dumbledore trust him so much?"

Hermione shrugged. "Whatever it is, it's blinding him to Snape's actions. I think Dumbledore only sees the good in people, and either blanks out or ignores the bad. He seems fixated on redemption, no matter how evil the person in question is."

"Noble. Stupid, but noble."

Hermione dropped the issue, unsure how to reply to that. In some ways, she agreed with Daphne. Certainly in regard to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Yet... the Headmasters viewpoint was admirable... if that was his only goal. She decided to return to the initial topic. "Will you be okay Daphne? Your family?"

Daphne dragged in a deep, shuddering breath before replying. "I think so. With a bit of time..." Her eyes sharpened. "Just promise me one thing: when it's time to take them down, you'll leave _him_ to me."

Hermione did not need to be clarified as to whom she was referring.

* * *

At that moment, the man they had been discussing was cleaning his hands furiously, alternating his glare between the unconscious boy lying on the cot that he'd conjured and the blood-stained bullet that rested on the worktop before him. Blast that Major!

He'd tried everything to stabilise and heal Draco, but nothing worked. Not even the potion he'd poured down the brats throat had done anything! He'd been on the verge of just wrapping him up to see if he could recover on his own when a memory from his childhood came creeping out from the vault he'd stuffed them all into. The bullet was still in Draco. Muggle doctors removed them to help the patient get better. Every summoning spell had failed however, until at last, howling with anger and disgust, he'd transfigured a pair of tweezers from some scissors. Pulling back the sheet from the wound, he'd had to take several deep breaths before he reached into Draco's belly.

It was the most horrid, most disgusting thing he'd ever done. No ingredient –even the most exotic – could generate the revulsion he felt as he tried to find the bullet. In frustration he'd used his potion knife to enlarge the ragged wound so he could reach further in… much as he hated having to do so. Blood caked his hands and forearms, and the smell was repulsive.

Snape was almost ready to empty his stomach by the time he finally found a hard lump. It was almost against Draco's spine, having penetrated almost all the way through Draco's body. Snarling he cut his way through to the bullet, before grabbing it. Or at least, tried to. The small, rounded form was slick with blood and other fluids, making it slippery and hard to contain.

Almost up to his elbows in the moaning, shifting youth, Snape cursed aloud as he scrambled after the bullet before finally getting his hand around it. He almost ripped his hands out of Draco in triumph as he held the bullet aloft. Stepping back he reached for his wand before casting a general healing charm at Draco. The spell worked, but Snape felt his magic be drained much more than it should. He scowled at the bloody bullet in his hand before dropping it to the tabletop. Another pair of charms cast on Draco ensured the foolish youth would live, though he would have scarring over his stomach for the rest of his life.

Snape looked at his hands. Cleaning Charms had failed to remove all the blood, so he'd pulled out some of the heavy-duty cleaning fluid. Now his skin was tinged pink from the furious scrubbing he'd had to do to get all the blood off them. His robes, however... that he was going to have to replace.

He looked at the bullet once more. His frown deepened as he looked closer. Now that some of the blood had run off, he could see tiny markings down the sides. Picking it up once more, he examined them.

Etched runes. The sides of the bullet had runic symbols etched into it, dozens of them. Each had been filled with silver, allowing for near permanent enchantment of the round. Feeling his fingers deaden, he scowled before hurling the bullet into the sink where it clattered about before finally coming to rest. Magical suppressant runes, much like the ones used on the cuffs the Auror's used, only more insidious, and much more powerful.

Snape's estimation of the Major went up a notch.

* * *

Harry breathed deeply as he laid back on the now flattened grass, eyes staring sightlessly into the bright blue sky. He was vaguely aware of the two delightful female bodies that were cuddled into him, but much of his mind was still drifting with pleasure.

Susan lifted her head a little to look over his chest at other witch. "So what do you think?" She asked with a satisfied smile, bordering on a smirk, on her flushed face.

Fleur's eyes were a little glassy, but her smile widened. "'e is a keeper, for sure!"

Susan chuckled as she lowered herself back down. Truthfully she was unsure as to where this wantonness had come from: it wasn't her normal nature to be _quite _this forward. But every now and again...

Another chuckle rose from her throat as she spied a patch of pale blue swinging above them. _'How on Earth did Fleur's skirt get up there?'_

The three of them were relaxing together, bathing in the warm afterglow. The light breeze cooled their flushed and heated bodies without chilling them.

Susan sighed lightly. "How you feeling Harry?"

Dragging himself back from the clouds was a bit of an effort, but Harry slowly focused inwards. He felt... content. Happy even. Not even what had happened the previous night could drag down his feelings much. "Good, even though I know I shouldn't..." He said softly.

"It is not 'our fault 'arry." Fleur said softly. "while it is to 'our credit zhat you feel zhe way you do, you are not zhe one who carried out zhose attacks."

"The important thing to not let V.. Vol... Vo... You-Know-Who, scare you away." Susan picked up. "He wants us scared, terrified. I think he's trying to isolate you, cut you off from your friends." Mentally she chastised herself for not saying the name. She was determined to break the habit! Determinedly she pressed on. "It's okay to mourn those who have died Harry, to feel the loss of others. But don't allow their deaths to stop you acting, living… loving."

Harry nodded slowly, a resolve hardening with him. Such a tactic would be just like Voldemort. Well, he wasn't going to get away with it...

"We need to plan a counter offensive." Harry stated firmly, idea's whirling round his head. "With Bella's information, we should learn just where to hurt him. No more running and hiding."

The two witches looked at each other with satisfied smiles. _This_ was the wizard they had fallen for.

Harry slowly sat up before getting to his feet. "We should rejoin the others. We've got some planning to do."

"Bon." Fleur nodded as she sat up as well. The three began to gather their clothing when she paused. "Uh... 'ave either of you seen my skirt?"

Susan could not help but laugh.

* * *

It was apparent to the others the change in Harry's countenance when the three returned to manor itself. He was centred, focused. A hard glint was in his eye were as earlier there had only been guilt and alarm.

"We need to strike back." He thought aloud, gaining the attention of everyone in the kitchen. "Voldemort's trying to divide us, scare us. I'm not going to let him win. If the prophecy is to be believed, I'm the only one who can end Voldemort permanently. How, I'm not sure right now." Harry looked troubled for a moment before looking up once more. "Regardless, we now know his secret. He made Horcurx's to keep himself alive. We've got one, and two others have been destroyed. We need to work out how many he made, and where he hid them."

"Don't forget ways to destroy them once we do find them." Hermione chipped in. "I doubt there'll be a basilisk fang lying about handy."

Harry looked at her with a small measure of amusement.

Amelia leaned forward slowly. "It's all well you feel that way – and I commend you for your determination – but I can't allow you to go off on vigilante actions, especially while you're under-aged."

Harry looked back at her firmly. "I understand what you are saying Madam Bones. But I will not stand idle while he targets me or my family." His eyes flickered to where Bellatrix stood with her sisters. "Did she give you enough to go after his followers?"

Amelia nodded now, a tight smile dancing at the corner of her mouth. "She's confirmed several suspects we had." She replied, one finger tapping the muggle spiral notepad that rested before her. "Yes. Bellatrix has been very helpful." A sigh escaped her lips. "However… I'll need to proceed carefully."

"How so?" Daniel Granger cut in, a slight frown on his face. You've a got a list of every single member of this terrorist group, right? And where they're based?" At her nod he pressed on. "So why don't you just swoop in and arrest the lot?"

"Because I would be sending my Aurors' to their deaths, that's why!" Amelia snapped back before breathing deeply. "The Aurors are a police force, not an army. And the Death Eaters have no compunction – moral or otherwise - not to use lethal spells, we are limited to non-lethal ones. I've got a meeting with the Minister on Monday to discuss several issues, including the Auror budget and our 'default' spell use. At the moment we're supposed to only use stunners and binding spells to capture them."

Hermione shook her head. "That doesn't work. We stuck to such spells during our Ministry encounter. They just kept on reviving each other. I must have stunned the same man four or five times that night."

Amelia nodded. "I agree. But the Minister and the Wizengamot won't allow us to use more powerful, debilitating curses."

Harry snorted. "Half of those scum are on the Wizengamot, if not more. Of course they'll stop any attempt to make things more dangerous for them."

Nodding towards Harry in tacit admission of that, Amelia turned back to face Daniel. "There are two other factors in my reluctance to attack them. Firstly, their primary base at the moment is Malfoy Manor, and I just know that the wards defending that place will be far more than just repulsion types."

"What do you mean?" Daniel pushed.

"Most wards just push you back a bit if you try to force your way in. You might get hurt falling over something, but that's it. With Malfoy, I'd expect that if you tried to breech the wards, they'd try to kill you." Amelia paused for a moment to let that thought sink in. "Also, although the Malfoy's are not an Ancient Family, you can bet they have some active defences as well. With his connections, I can only dread what Malfoy has guarding his home."

Daniel nodded slowly. "If I understand you, it'll be more like taking a military base than simply arresting someone on the street?"

"Yes, I suppose so. My Aurors are not an army. We're law enforcement, first and foremost."

"Okay… so what's the other reason?"

Amelia shivered. "Voldemort, their leader. While the regular Death Eaters are thugs and generally a little below the average in the power scales, the Inner Circle are better, towards the upper end of the scale." Harry and Hermione shared a surprised look, both thinking back to their running battle in the Department of Mysteries as Amelia pressed on. "But Voldemort… he's in a league almost by himself. Only Dumbledore can match him. He's… he's more powerful than anyone I know. His control of magic and duelling skills are nearly unsurpassed. Dumbledore's not as powerful, but is more skilled in my opinion. During the last war, nearly everyone who went up against him died. Only a few escaped with their lives." Her gaze turned towards Harry. "Including your parents Harry."

Lily shivered from her seat next to Harry. "Don't remind me. Voldemort is… he's a monster, but a seriously powerful and dangerous monster. But Amelia…" She laid a hand on her son's shoulder. "You forget that Harry can match him already."

For a moment Harry considered protesting, saying that he wouldn't have survived the encounter in the Ministry Atrium if Dumbledore hadn't arrived. But he saw Hermione's eyes on him, glaring, so he kept quiet.

Daniel leaned back in his seat, forehead creased in thought. "Perhaps we can arrange an 'accident' over this manor…"

"What do you mean?" Amelia asked, confused.

"My son's in the Air Force. I used to be in the 2nd Parachute Regiment. Would those wards stop a thousand pound bomb getting through? I guarantee very little would survive such a blast."

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, her eyes widening. "Could we form an army of our own? There's got to be other relatives of magic users who are in the armed forces! Between them, that ought to be more than enough to handle Voldemort's group."

"At the least, it would counter his SS allies." Daphne put in, her eyes dancing before they narrowed. "Just be sure that they know to leave the Major to me." When Daniel looked at her in shock, she levelled her gaze at him. "He's a relative, my grandfathers' brother. A traitor to my family, and killer of both my father and great-grandfather. He's mine." There was the icy cold of the North Pole in her voice by the end.

Amelia sighed after a moment. "It's a good idea, but I'd need the Minister to arrange it though the muggle Prime Minister. And somehow I doubt he'd do it. After all, Malfoy is a powerful influence in our world with his money…"

"Not so much anymore Amelia." Lily corrected her. "Much of his wealth came from his marriage to the Black Family." She tipped her head towards Narcissa, who had so far sat back and kept quiet. Daniel took a long look at the slim blond woman. "Now that that marriage has been annulled…"

"Hmm… I suppose your right." Amelia replied. "Still, I don't think Scrimgeour would go for it."

"We can still sound out the military families though." Harry stepped in, lean forwards to rest his elbows on the table. "Anything we did would have to be unofficial anyway."

"Yes…" Amelia muttered, looking like she was debating something internally. At last she looked up. "I'll ask my brother to look up any names we can give him. He's in the army."

Susan blushed lightly. "I forgot about Uncle Bill."

Harry turned to look at her. "I thought you said…"

"I know Harry, and I am." Susan shifted in her seat, clearly embarrassed. "Uncle Bill is a squib Harry."

"And the Ministry considers squibs only a step above Muggles." Hermione groaned, eyes closing in resignation. Once more the bigotry and elitism of the Wizarding World reared its ugly head.

"I'm afraid so. Neither William nor any of his children can inherit the Bones family legacy because of his squib status. Even though his daughter is magical, she's classified as a muggleborn." Amelia explained.

Daniel looked askew at her. "Squib?"

"Non-magical born to magical parents. Sort of the reverse of a muggleborn."

"You people have some… interesting names for people, don't you?"

Amelia opened her mouth to reply, but then two owls swooped in through an open window. One, a tawny owl, can to land before Daphne, while the other settled down in front of Lily. Harry and Hermione recognised it as a school owl as his mum removed the letter. The owl flew off once she had.

"Mum?" Harry asked after a few moments. It still sparked a warm glow within him to say that.

"It's from McGonagall. She wants to come visit." Lily said softly, a hint of longing in her tone.

"Of course she can." Harry assured her. "In fact… Dobby!" An instant later the excitable house elf was at his side. "Dobby please let Professor McGonagall know that she's free to visit here whenever she likes."

"Yes Great Master Harry Potter!" Dobby vanished before Harry could address what Dobby had called him. Sighing, Harry looked up towards a pale Daphne. "Daphne, what's the matter?"

The young blond shivered. "It's from Tracy. She's asking for my help." Harry remembered the dark haired girl on the train. Distant, but friendly enough. "Her fathers being pressured into signing a marriage contract between her and Theo Nott!"

Harry instantly scowled. "Another one of those Death Eater spawn. Why the hell would he sign something like that?"

Daphne sighed. "Tracy's father… well, her family is complicated. Her parents were never formally married. His first wife died a couple of years after they had a son, Roger. He found comfort in the arms of Tracy's mother. I don't know all the details, but it seems that they became engaged when they found out about Tracy. But after she was born… her mother left him at the altar."

Hermione frowned. "So… she's Roger Davies' half-sister?" At Daphne's nod Hermione asked about something that didn't make complete sense to her. "But then… why is her name Davis, and not Davies?"

Daphne shrugged. "I think they meant to make her Davies, but the staff member at St Mungo's misheard her mother, and so wrote Davis. Regardless, she is her father's daughter.

"Abraxis Davies is… a difficult man. He's built up a transportation company from nothing. He's a hard working, salt-of-the-earth type. From what I know, he had very little when he was younger, attended one of the Ministry run, local schools rather than Hogwarts. It's his business that has allowed him to fund both Roger and Tracy through Hogwarts. That company of his makes a substantial amount a year. He's a solid, successful businessman. But… he's not easy to live with. He's a hard man, but fair. Have to give him that. But he's also rather fact-orientated; doesn't put much faith in rumours or speculation." Daphne paused for a moment. "I think he also has trouble relating to Tracy, and add to that what happened with her mother…" She trailed off for a moment. "I'm pretty sure he does love her, but has a hard time actually letting her know he does."

Susan cocked her head. "So… how does she expect you to help?"

Daphne sighed deeply. "By asking that Harry put forward a bid for her on behalf of the Black Family."

Silence filled the room for a long moment. Slowly Harry looked between his family. "Opinions?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "I think we should seriously consider her. Not only just to get her out of that contract. I'm not sure if the Black Family has any requirements for spouses though."

Susan also nodded. "We already know her at least a bit, and I can't think of any others we'd want that close to us."

Lily gently rubbed Harry's shoulder. "Who else are you considering?" She asked knowingly. Harry dipped his head in reply, admitting that he'd not even thought about the Black Wife issue at all.

"Harry…" Daphne called, prompting him to look at her. "I must admit I was thinking about her when we discussed this last week. I don't know much about the Blacks, but I think Tracy would relish the chance to really make something of a failing family. As I said, she's her fathers' daughter."

Harry sighed. "Okay, but she has to follow Sirius' example. The family may be Black by name, but it'll remain firmly for the Light." He stated firmly. In that moment Daniel saw something in Harry that he understood… and respected. He'd seen many officers during his time in the army. Some had their rank but were not fit to lead a rubbish collection team. There had also been non-commissioned sergeants whose men would follow them to hell and back, but had been hindered by their superiors. There had been a few officers however, who had that quality, leaders of men that inspired almost fanatical loyalty and the very best out each man, not just for their charisma or skill, but also because they actually cared about the men, looked after them. Looking at the young man sitting at the head of the table, Daniel saw that same quality in Harry's eyes. He saw that this young man would move Heaven and Hell for those around him, face down the devil himself to save one more life. It was… humbling in a way. "So how do we go about this?" Harry continued.

Narcissa sighed loudly. "Such contracts require very formal, exact language sir. To ensure both parties interpret the contract the same way."

Harry looked at her shrewdly. "Do you know how to draft such a contract?"

Narcissa looked him in the eye. "Yes."

Harry smiled. "Good. Then would you do it? I'm not that good with words… that's Hermione's domain." He smiled at the bushy haired young lady beside him as she huffed good-naturedly.

Narcissa nodded as she sat back, already running over phrases and words to use.

Harry looked at the others. "We need to hit back at the Death Eaters, quickly. If we can't go after them directly… then what are our indirect options?" He lost a little of his confident manner towards the end, his youth showing through.

Amelia frowned lightly. "If we can get support within the Wizengamot…"

"You'll have my support." The voice from the doorway made everyone look up. Lord Greengrass was stood framed within, his daughter-in-law at his side. Despite his age worn appearance, he looked solidly at Harry. "What ever you enact, House Greengrass will follow for as long as I live."

Harry was still for a moment then bowed his head. "I… thanks."

Andromeda Tonks now leaned forwards. "Mister Potter… I think we need to put something in the Prophet… show the people that we're not going to let the Dark Lord get away with this."

Hermione nodded, a certain gleam entering her eye. "I can make sure that Rita will co-operate."

"It'll need to be a bold, front page statement though…" Susan threw in.

"You ladies can work on that." Harry commented smiling. Then his expression hardened. "What else?"

"Goblins." Fleur said. When the others looked at her she flushed lightly. "While 'hey won't 'ake sides, if we can 'ind a way for Grigotts to seize 'he vaults of ze Death 'aters…"

Amelia nodded slowly, an idea already forming in her mind as she glanced towards Bellatrix.

Harry sighed. "I still would really like to see Mr Granger's idea used…"

"Yes, well… while it would be nice and impressive…" Hermione began. "…I worry about the effectiveness. If they should escape before the bomb hit, then we'd let our guard down, thinking they were all dead… it could be disastrous when they strike back." Heads nodded around the table as everyone digested what she had said.

Lily looked around the table. "Let's take this up again tomorrow. Give us the rest of today and the night to think about this."

Harry smiled at his mom. "Thanks mom. Let's do that. But we need something that we can do in the next few days."

Amelia nodded. "I'll talk with my brother on Monday, hopefully."

"We should also include the Longbottoms as well." Susan put in. "They were hit as well."

Her aunt sighed. "Yes… and knowing Augusta like I do, she'll be foaming at the mouth to hit back herself."

Harry's gaze slid to Bellatrix, who had gone pale. After a long moment Harry nodded. "Okay. We needed to talk to them anyway. I'll owl Neville." With that he stood up, showing that the meeting was ended… for now. As he stepped out from his chair however he saw Daphne approach her mother and Grandfather. Steeling himself, Harry approached the three of them, unaware of the eyes watching him. When he got within a few paces all three looked at him.

"Sir, ma'am… I wish…"

Lord Greengrass silenced him with a gesture. "Mister Potter… Harry. You are not at fault for what happened. It was our own fault for not expecting such a heavy response so soon." He breathed deeply. "My son is lost, but he was a fighter. He would not have gone down easily. You are a noble, brave young man. I could not have picked anyone better for my Granddaughter." He smiled tightly at Daphne. "I trust you to ensure that those responsible are brought to account."

Harry's eyes hardened. "Oh, they will."

* * *

Narcissa groaned lightly as she rubbed at one eye, trying to drive the tiredness back just a bit longer. Glancing at the clock she sighed. It was gone eleven, and nearly the entire manor was asleep or trying to. But she was determined to get this done. Harry was hoping to send out the missive to Abraxis Davies in the morning, but the wording of such things had to be done right. They'd already gone through two drafts; the roll of parchment before her was the final article.

Leaning back to ease the stiffness in her neck, Narcissa allowed her thoughts to wander for a moment. Some ideas for striking back had been passed around during the evening meal, and it had been clear from her eyes that Madam Bones already had plans for the information that she'd been given. Some things had been decided already. They would begin a campaign against the Dark Lord and his minions using the Wizarding press, at first the Prophet via that Skeeter woman, then later the _Quibbler_, once the printing machine had been fixed. The Aurors were going to hit the Death Eater's secondary sites and homes, with the exception of Malfoy Manor. It was agreed that if they encountered or even had a suspicion that the Dark Lord himself was around they would abort. In the mean time Harry and his own 'Inner Circle' would start training their bodies and skills. While no one wanted children to be the Front Line of this war, everyone knew that the Dark Lord was after Harry, and by extension everyone around him. And Harry absolutely refused to even consider hiding out here in the Manor until the madman was killed.

Most of the day however, he had spent with his future wives, Daphne in particular. The five of them had wandered off together for most of the afternoon, forming the kind of close-knit bond they would need later in life. Lily had spent time with Mrs Greengrass and the young Katie Bell, who was starting to come out of her shock. Something which appeared to have helped was when Madam Bones returned from the DMLE, bringing news of the clean up of the attacks. The Muggleborns in her department had acted as liaisons with the muggle police and solicitors, who were now involved in both the Bell's and Granger's cases. The cover story was actually rather close to the truth. Both families had been attacked by two groups of members from an extremist cult or following, for reasons not clear, though it was suspected the link was a mutual friend of the children. His family was giving the Grangers and Katie shelter until the criminals responsible were brought to justice.

The Grangers had, indeed, decided to take Harry on his earlier offer and move into the Manor grounds itself. Mrs Granger had already toured the sub-manor that Harry thought would be ideal, and she'd come back with a smile that lit up the hall, Victor Van Dort following with a knowing smile and a pad on which were pages of neat, elegant writing. Clearly he'd been taking notes. The two Grangers had shut down their practice, citing a family emergency, and had already placed it on the market for the same reason. Narcissa had overhead Mrs Granger telling Lily Potter quietly that the thought of carrying on like before caused her to start shaking violently. While she understood that retreating after the attack was not a good idea, she could not help how she felt. At least they had already been considering the move, and had been sounding out potential buyers for the practice for a while before the event.

Little Luna Lovegood however… she'd remained closed off and quiet all day. It was clear that her shell-shocked figure was unnerving to Harry and his group, as they continually glanced at her, worried frowns on their faces when they did. Lily had tried to comfort her several times, but the young blond seemed only half aware that she was even there. Even though she didn't know her, Narcissa found the image troubling.

What really threatened to melt her long frozen heart however were the adorable Greengrass twins. While they were still clearly upset with everything, the two of them were opening up, particularly to Harry. They also found Daniel Granger fascinating…

Narcissa flushed a little, before leaning over the parchment again, her eyes darting to the second draft to make sure she had the wordage right. Her elegant, refined handwriting flowed across the parchment, crisp and clear. The words used also made it clear that Mister Black – Harry – was open to negotiation, but that Tracy's happiness came first. It was certainly the most polite, thoughtful proposal that she'd ever seen. The old Black proposals were nothing like this. Narcissa had looked over the one that had bound her to Lucius. The entire document seemed to almost scream 'You should be on your knees thanking us for deigning to notice you worm'. The arrogance and conceit had been stifling.

With a flourish she finished the last line, before dropping a few inches to write out Harry's full name and title; Harry James Potter-Black, Lord-elect Potter & Lord-elect Black. Setting the quill neatly in the inkwell she leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her forehead as a yawn threatened to escape her throat.

"Finally done, eh?"

With a small yelp Narcissa jumped, her head snapping round to look towards the doorway. Daniel Granger stood within, leaning against the frame arms lightly crossed over his chest.

"Do you mind?" She asked sharply, hoping to cover her flush and surprise at sight of him. The setting sun set soft red light through the windows, which played over his figure. The worn jeans and grey t-shirt he wore were totally incapable of hiding the lean, solid figure within. She could see the rippling of his muscles as he shrugged lightly. Mentally she found herself comparing the man before her with her ex-husband… and Lucius came up wanting. He had been elegant, but the black soul within showed in the darkness in his eyes, the set of his mouth and motions. Even the nights they had spent conceiving Draco he'd not lost the look of superiority from his face. She had known going in that while he had the drive and personality her parents had been looking for in a son-in-law, the Blacks were the ones with power, wealth and prestige. But ever since he'd been acting as if it was the Malfoy's Family's own.

The muggle before her was however a very different breed of man. The way he moved let you know instantly that this man was a predator, a professional killer. Someone who didn't mind a little dirt when he dealt with you. Yet there was also a very reassuring element to that nature of his. You felt safe around him, as nothing would get to you while he stood in the way. Daniel Granger was hardened and physically powerful, the opposite of Lucius, who'd always been rather… scrawny, to tell the truth.

"You've been working on that thing all day." He carried on as if she hadn't spoken, his frank gaze seeing through her. "I still don't like the idea of this…"

Narcissa sighed. "In some respects, I agree. But our world has been this way for centuries… and no ones seen any reason to change."

"The current state of affairs says otherwise."

She didn't have a rebuttal to that, so Narcissa stood up and began to gather the loose parchment. "I really should turn in. Tomorrow… tomorrow's going to be a stressful day."

"Yes. I can imagine."

Narcissa glanced sharply at him, but his face was inscrutable. After a moment she had to ask. "Why are you still up?"

Daniel shrugged one more. "Too wired to sleep. Besides wanted to check on my brother."

A wave of guilt washed over Narcissa at that comment, and she allowed her head to drop as she stepped forwards. "I'm sorry. About your brother. This can't have been the easiest way to find out about our world…"

"No. No it isn't." He moved a little, enough to block the way out. Stopping before him, she looked up into that penetrating gaze. "Why are you pushing your self ma'am? You know you could have finished that off in the morning."

Narcissa sighed deeply. "Bella's not the only sister with a lot to atone for." At his continued look she braced herself. "I guess I didn't formally introduce myself. I used to be Lady Narcissa Malfoy."

Daniel's frown deepened. "Malfoy… that name's familiar."

"I think you would have heard it from your niece. I certainly knew of her." Narcissa sighed once more. "My son Draco goes to school with her and Harry."

The confusion cleared from his eyes. "Ah, now I recall. A 'snot-nosed brat with delusions of greatness' I think was how Hermione described him."

"She's not wrong. His father Lucius is who Draco wants to be, but he's inherited none of Lucius' talents, only his looks. And from what I've been told…" Narcissa hesitated, but decided the man before her had the right to know. "…He's the one responsible for your brother's condition."

Daniel's eyes bored into hers. "You married that filth?" He asked in a low, dangerous voice.

"Not by choice." She replied in a quiet one. "And it was a loveless, cold and distant relationship the whole time. The world would be better off without him."

"Well… he won't get away next time." Daniel said as he moved out of the doorway. Naricssa watched him walk away softly, his form fading into the dim light.

"I know."

* * *

**A/N:** There, that should get all you wondering... Next time we have the Neville/Bellatrix meeting, and Luna comes back... thanks to an unexpected guest!


	32. Plans & Restoration

**A/N: **Hello everyone again. 2011 is about to close, and what way to bring in the new year with a new chapter?

* * *

When Narcissa awoke the next morning she saw the bed across from her empty, the sheets twisted and crumpled. Looking over to the window she could see her sister Bellatrix staring outside, arms wrapped around her all too thin frame. Her features were troubled, and dark circles were under her eyes. Sighing as she got out of bed, Narcissa slipped her dressing gown on before carrying Bella's over to her.

"Bella, you've got to relax." She said softly as she wrapped Bellatrix's gown around her sister's shoulders. "It'll be alright."

Bellatrix's reply was so faint she almost missed it. "No sister, you don't understand. He has as much reason to hate me, as Potter has to hate the Dark Lord. And there's nothing holding him back from taking his vengeance." She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature running down her spine.

"Surely, once he hears about what happened to you…" Narcissa started.

"Cissa, I took his parents from him!" Bella cut her off. "As surely as if I'd cut their throats with a knife! Worse even, as they linger on in St Mongos! Neither truly alive yet not dead! Their condition has not improved since I tortured them both all those years ago." The regret and guilt were plain to hear in her voice. In her mind, the sequence of events from that night nearly fifteen years ago ran through her head once more, like they had been all night. The screams of the Longbottom couple, the cruel laughter of her ex-husband and his brother were as clear now as they were back then... But clearest of all was the feminine cackling, her own, as she applied the _crucitus _curse again and again…

She turned to look at her sister finally, the tear tracks clear on her pale skin. "Can you honestly expect him to show me any compassion?"

Cissa sighed deeply, her own eyes welling. "No…"

* * *

For his part, Neville was almost as nervous as the older sisters were as he stepped out of the Floo into Potter Manor. Harry's invite to meet today had hinted at several topics, including an offensive against the Death Eaters – that had gotten his Grandmother's attention – along with plans for the summer. But there had also a note concerning 'family honour'. _That_ was unusual… and unexpected.

Focusing his attention forwards, Neville's face broke into a small at the sight of Harry stood a few steps away, Hermione as ever by his side. On his other side Susan and Daphne were stood together though slightly apart from him. All four had the grand hall of Potter Manor as a backdrop.

Harry stepped forwards as the Floo flared again, disgorging Hannah Abbot. "Neville, glad you could come."

"Thanks Harry. But what's going on?" Neville asked as his gran made her entrance.

"Well… mostly we're planning to counterattack. The attacks on us and our friends will not go unpunished." Harry's face had turned grim with his statement.

Watching him Augusta Longbottom nodded in approval. This was much more like the Potters of old.

"We've got a few ideas already, but I want everyone affected to be involved." Harry continued. He looked towards Hannah, who had so far not strayed from Neville's arm. "Hannah… I want you to consider this carefully. Getting involved could mean Voldemort's lot targeting you or your family..." His allusion to what had happened clear.

Hannah shivered, but clung to Neville's arm a little tighter. "Harry… where Neville goes, I'll follow." It looked like it was taking every shred of courage she had to say it, but she didn't waver. "Father's already began having the warding upgraded, and I swear I saw him examining a muggle gun thing the other day."

Hermione frowned lightly. "Better tell him to leave it alone, at least until he's been given some basic training in using one." She said. "We don't want him accidentally shooting himself in the face."

"No, we don't." Daphne spoke up. "We're going to need all the allies we can get in the Wizengamot."

Hannah paled. "Yes, let's prevent that." She then flushed, a brighter red than any Weasley. "Our condolences Daphne. It's been all over the press, the attacks and all..."

Daphne smiled sadly as Susan wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

To break the awkward silence Harry looked to the stern woman who stood just beyond Neville's other shoulder. "Madam Longbottom, welcome to Potter Manor."

"Thank you Mister Potter. It's good to be back here."

Harry was surprised for a moment. "I take it you last visited in my grandfather's time?"

A smile almost appeared on the older woman's face. "Indeed it was. A very noble and courageous man." Her eyes moved across to the two slightly taller figures over to the right, by the bottom of the steps leading up to the private wing of the Manor. She nodded briefly at Fleur, but her eyes were on the redhead beside her, widening slightly. "Lily Potter?" Both Neville and Hannah whipped their heads round to look at her, mouths dropping down.

Lily smiled as she stepped forwards. "Hello Augusta. I was happy to hear you've not lost your spirit."

Augusta Longbottom was stunned as she watched the young woman she had known so long ago stand before her… and not look a day older. "How?" Was all she could say. Inside emotions warred within. Pleasure to see an old friend back, shock at her sudden revival, envy for her hale return while her son still languished in St Mungos…

Lily, seeing the conflict in her eyes, smiled sadly at the older woman. "My survival was the result of a number of coinciding factors that could never be repeated even if we tried." She shrugged lightly before facing the young man with her. "Hello Neville. Nice to finally be able to speak with my godson." Her eyes softened. "You've got your fathers frame, but I can see Alice in your face, your eyes…" A tear escaped her own as her thoughts wandered to the current fate of her friend.

Neville was in a degree of shock. Happiness for Harry warred with a sense of envy. Slowly however her words sunk in and he exhaled the envy, allowing some perspective to enter and show him that maybe at last fate was giving Harry a break. "Mrs Potter." He greeted her formally.

Lily smiled lightly. "No need for formalities here Neville, though your manner is a credit to your character."

Neville flushed lightly. "Thank you Mrs Pot… I mean, Lily." Fighting back the blush, he faced the amused expressions of Harry and Hermione. "What's going on Harry?"

Harry sighed, all cheer fading. "We're fighting back Neville. For the moment with words, laws and others, but we're not going to be ideal ourselves. You still interested in some summer training?"

Neville didn't even have to think about his reply. "Yes."

Harry nodded slowly. "I thought so. Hopefully, we can end Voldemort quickly, before too many are killed. But we're going to have to use every tool and option we have."

"Ambitious, Mister Potter." Augusta stepped in once more, her eyes now narrowed, calculated. "If I may ask, by what did you refer to in your letter to my grandson when you spoke of 'family honour'?"

Harry fidgeted, a clear sign of his nervousness. "That is… complicated."

Neville chuckled. "When is it ever not with you involved?" He asked rhetorically. Harry flashed him a grin before turning serious once more.

"I suppose you know of the will reading of Sirius Black?" When he got three nods in reply, he pressed on. "He named me the heir to the Black Family. If he hadn't Draco would have been the heir." Both Neville and Hannah grimaced at that. "Because of that, my life is now even more complicated than it was. Part of that…" Harry hesitated for a moment. "…He left some, interesting things, to a number of his relatives. His cousins in particular. After the reading, two of them came to me, asking… no, begging me to not only annul their marriages, but provide them protection from Voldemort."

Neville was too shocked to speak, so Hannah asked the important questions. "Did you, Harry? Who are they?"

Harry sighed. "I did do as they asked… after making them swear an oath to me not to betray anyone in my house, or any of my friends. I also added an extra cravat for each one. As for who…" He paused for a long moment. "They are Lady Malfoy and… Bellatrix LeStrange."

Instantly a wave of white-hot fury washed through Neville, making his eyes narrow and his shoulders tense. His body trembled with anger and pain. Hannah gasped, gripping his hand tightly. Behind them, Augusta also felt a flush of rage suffuse her. "_She_ is here?" She asked, her voice quiet but filled with loathing.

Harry nodded slowly before gesturing with one hand. Out of a side room behind him Bellatrix stepped out almost demurely, head bowed. Neville drew his wand without thinking, his eyes fixed on the approaching older woman. Pure hatred filled them.

Harry stepped between the two, forcing Neville to meet his gaze. "Nev… I can only guess as to how you feel. Remember she's the one who took Sirius away from me. Part of her oath to me included this chance, for you, to take your revenge. But I ask that you either take it now, or defer till after we finish Voldemort. If you defer, I don't want to have to worry that you'll strike her down from behind during a critical moment in our fight." Seeing the firmness in Harry's eyes, Neville nodded jerkily, still unable to speak. Nodding in reply, Harry stepped aside, waving his hand to the others to step aside, clearing the space between Neville and Bellatrix.

The moment Harry moved Neville's wand snapped up to point directly at her heart. Bella stopped a few feet from him, making sure to keep her hands down by her sides, fingers spread and palms towards him. Looking up at him she shivered at the pure hatred and loathing in his eyes... emotions that she knew all too well were justified.

"Neville Longbottom…" She said softly and slowly. "…I have wronged you, denied you your family." She lowered herself to her knees, keeping her arms wide open. "You may take your revenge." Tipping her head forward she closed her eyes, awaiting his judgement.

For several long moments no one moved, eyes wide as they watched the tableau. While some of them would say they Neville reasonably well, none knew just how he would act in this situation. His face rolled between several emotional states; anger, hatred and pain the most obvious. His body was shaking…

"_Reducto!_"

The word exploded from his lips, but was almost instantly drowned out by the explosion of the spell as it struck. A bright flare washed out everyone's view and they flinched away, blinking away spots.

When they could see again they looked back, dreading what they would see…

Neville was still standing, breathing heavily. Bellatrix was still kneeling before him, unmarked. But just before her knees was a tapered hole in the floor, a foot wide and nearly two deep. As they watched she slowly looked up at him, eyes wide.

"Death is more than you deserve." He said haltingly. "You have to earn your redemption." And with that he spun and stalked off. After a moment to look around apologetically Hannah turned and followed him.

Everyone started to relax… but then Augusta Longbottom stepped forwards into the space her son had left. The tension rose once more as she glared at the still kneeling woman before her. Despite the fear that pulsed through her, Bella refused to look away. She would face her judgement unflinching.

At last Madam Longbottom spoke. "I can never forgive what you did. Too old, too set in my ways. I'll let the younger generation forgive you, if they chose to do so. Let them decide your fate." Turning away from the slumping witch, she looked towards Harry. "So... what are your plans to strike back?"

* * *

The discussion and planning session on how they could hit back ran on all morning. Dobby, Winky and Emily served lunch platters while the eclectic group tossed ideas back and forth. While everyone agreed that a direct strike by themselves was out of the question, the other options were battered back and forth before any consensus was reached. In addition to the Longbottoms, The Tonks, Madam Bones, Professor McGonagall, Lord Henerick and Eleanor Greengrass, Daniel and Emma Granger joined the group around the main table in the dining hall. Harry was sat at the head once more, at the insistence of his mother, Hermione and Victor. This did have Tonks chuckling for a bit until her mother lightly scolded her for her disrespect. Harry stepped in on the younger Tonks side, saying that he was fine with her attitude; it was how he knew her. Remus and Lily had smiled proudly at that. So had McGonagall, though she was a little more subtle about it. Her visit the previous day had allowed her to find balance in herself, after the total destruction of the previous pillar in her life, Her faith in Albus Dumbledore.

At first the older group, primarily Augusta, Lord Greengrass and McGonagall, were very reluctant to involve the muggles in the fight. This was a Magical World issue, they should solve it themselves. Hermione countered that the Muggles had means to fight back that couldn't be countered by wizards, and then held up the example of her uncle thwarting the attack on her parents. The Aurors had captured five Death Eaters, with one killed, for two fatalities on the Aurors side. Daniel had killed five single-handedly, and wounded the remaining four of that team. None of them had any counter for that.

Professor McGonagall had – with obvious reluctance – passed across a list of student names, past and present, to Amelia. Each one on it was either a muggle-born or a half-blood with a muggle parent. Madam Bones had assured her that she would keep it safe. It was hoped that her brother would be able to run it through the army's systems and see if any were enlisted or retired. Once they had a list, then they would decide how to proceed.

Amelia would also talk to the Prime Minister, and hopefully get access and contact within Scotland Yard and MI5. It was hoped that the Muggle police officers could be alerted to a 'rising terrorist group' with extremely violent 'Neo-Nazi' allies. At the very least they would be able to track the movement of them, and hopefully cut off their supplies. Maybe even take out a few isolated members. It would be stressed to the muggle authorities not to engage the suspects themselves; these were highly dangerous individuals.

More direct action was to be undertaken by Amelia's Auror corps, who would be raiding the homes of many Death Eaters and their supporters across the country. Malfoy Manor however was to be avoided at all costs, as both sisters had confirmed that it was the Dark Lords primary base of operations. There was some speculation about having the Royal Air Force 'accidentally' drop ordinance onto the manor, but actually hitting the building was seen as the problem, as the pilots would not be able to see the target. This provoked a question from Daniel as to why, and when the answer was the muggle targeted notice-me-not and aversion wards that were around it, he pressed on as to 'how' those wards worked, and how in the hell they could tell the difference between 'muggle' and magical. Both Lily and Hermione had almost gone into extensive lectures on the magic of the wards, but Harry had pulled them both back from actually getting started. If his mom shared as many traits with Hermione that he thought she did, they would have gone on all day, likely having a debate between themselves using terms and ideas that would have gone right over everyone's heads. That idea was put onto the back burner for now, until they could get around such issues.

Narcissa had also provided details of all the bribes her husband had paid Fudge during his tenure as Minister, all so that new laws would pass or fail. There had also been bribes and threats sent to several other members of the Wizengamot for the same reason. She was not sure of the exact figures, but there would be records at Gringotts. Bill would chase that lead, hopefully uncovering more threads to pursue.

Madam Longbottom agreed to support any motion Madam Bones brought before the Wizengamot to help combat the Death Eaters, as did Lord Greengrass. Both would also use their political connections to sound out those who would support them... and those who favoured the Dark Lord's agenda. All three expected a tough battle, as the pureblood block was large and influential. And then there was the Minister, Scrimgour. As Amelia had pointed out, he was highly unlikely to go against that group as that would lose him his position. He'd courted their support, now he had to dance to their tune.

The idea of announcing the impending marriages was mooted, but rejected. Mainly by Harry, who did not want there to another massive media circus that would surround them all. So far the alliance notification had slipped by, but anything to do with Harry The-Boy-Who-Lived getting married would be all over every paper and on the wireless for months. He'd rather spend his time focusing on dealing with Voldemort, and getting to know his future wives, than fending off overeager, nosy reporters.

Daniel was asked to sort out a crash course in combat for Harry and his group, as well as devise a fitness program they could do around their classes. He'd scoffed at first; it would impossible to do either goal justice. His training had been eighteen hours a day, six days a week for three years before he'd even been deployed, let alone entered combat. And it had been harsh and brutal, to the point that anyone watching would decry it as torture and abuse, both verbal and physical. However, in the end he'd relented, and agreed to try and sort something out. He did warn however that they would no time for almost anything else while he was teaching them, so it was best that any particular magical training they felt they needed had to be done before the end of the month, as he was going to take over August. In the mean time, they could start doing morning and evening runs around the manor. McGonagall offered to tutor them for the remaining two weeks of July, tying in neatly with Daniels words. August, for her, would be consumed by preparation for the next school year. Harry had to reassure her that yes, he and the others would be attending come September First, despite some concerns regarding safety. Despite everything, Hogwarts was still head and shoulders above all other schools. Fleur had freely admitted that her old school focused on 'soft' or political skills, neglecting things like Defence. And everyone gathered there considered the 'public' schools a joke.

As part of the training, Tonks, Remus and Bellatrix would assist in magical combat tactics, though Daniel had muttered darkly about the sense in such after his encounter. Lily would also help with that when she could, but her time was going to be dominated by managing the Potter estate, including the families' investments. After nearly fifteen years of no direction, they badly needed sorting and organising. Remus, Lily and surprisingly Narcissa would also work with the group in July around McGonagall, going over the subjects that she was not as strong in. While it was no surprise to Harry to hear that his mum would have been a Charms Mistress had she taken the test, finding out she was at the same level with potions was. Narcissa admitted that she'd been nearly top of her class for Runes and Arthimancy, so she would be able to help Harry catch up with the others.

The one thing that got Harry really excited though was when the subject of Animagi was raised. McGonagall had been lost the instance she looked at his eager, almost desperate face. She'd cautioned them that it was advanced magic, and likely would take for longer than they hoped, but she would go over the basics. However, she wanted to look over what the Potter Library had on the subject first, to be sure they had suitable reading material. Harry had just told her that if there was anything that she felt they needed to get, just say so. They had the money, and it would make Hermione's day.

The list of those who would be trained was initially tentatively set to Harry and his wives, Neville and Hannah, Fred, George and Ginny, the Chasers... and Luna, if she snapped out of the funk that she was in. She was practically dead to the world, barely aware of things happening around her. Her eyes however reflected her inner grief and pain. She only responded to Harry and Lily, and even then it was not much. Ron had been considered, out of their old friendship, but he'd said too much at the end of term, and his actions and manners since then… Both Harry and Hermione were deeply worried about him now. How he had been at the Will reading was not normal for him. Tonks and Remus would also experience the whole training regime with the teens, Amelia having used her role as Director of the DMLE to assign Tonks as bodyguard to Harry's wives until further notice. Once the news of how close they were to Harry got out they would be at the centre of a whirlwind of speculation and controversy… with the possibility of some disgruntled members of their world trying to 'remove' the young witches from Harry's circle. Not wanting to get in the way of the tentative relationship the young Auror had with him, Harry had immediately offered Remus a similar role as bodyguard for himself, along with any other odd jobs needed.

This brought the issue of Dumbledore into the discussion, and the debate was heated at points. It was hoped that the shocks and points raised at the Will reading would get him to actually step down from his high horse, admit to his errors and make amends. But somehow Harry was convinced he wouldn't, at least not completely. Madam Longbottoms words to Bellatrix earlier kept playing through his mind.

Bill promised to give them all the basic training on dealing with Horcruxes, especially on how to destroy them. He explained that the 'safe' methods normally took ages, or the destruction of the object used. Quick methods tended to be very risky. Harry had chuckled before commenting that he could certainly confirm that, what with the basilisk in his second year. Bill had frowned, then paled as he looked at him. Daniel had looked up at the mention of a basilisk, curiosity written over his features. Harry had assured them that they could both view his memory of the event later, though it would be tough for Bill as his sister had been at the heart of the incident. Bill had looked even paler at that.

Over the sandwiches and finger food that had been laid out they worked out a press release for the Prophet, to be ferried to the papers office that afternoon. In it they decried the attacks, stated how it showed the hypocrisy of the Death Eaters – four of the families targeted had been 'pureblood' – and that House Potter and their allies considered these acts of war. They also let everyone know of the losses the Death Eaters had sustained. They would combat the fear and legend of Voldemort with the truth.

The most daring plan they had was set to go on the Wednesday, the next regular session of the Wizengamot. While he personally would have preferred to keep her survival hidden to only a few close to him, Harry had accepted that the moral boost to the Light of Lily's return would be a massive blow to Voldemort's side. Thusly, she would appear before the whole Wizengamot and take up the stewardship of the Potter Seat, until such time as Harry was ready to do so himself. The shock would ripple throughout their world.

* * *

Harry sighed as he strolled up the third drive, the last spur before the main manor. Daphne and Susan walked either side of him, their arms entwined around his waist while he had one round each of theirs. The meeting had broken just over an hour ago, and the group had fragmented. As Remus had ferried the press release to the Prophet – along with the warnings to the editor if he failed to print the release un-altered – Harry had suggested that those who would be staying on the manor grounds from now on should look over the other buildings.

While the elder Tonks had perused the quintet of unused cottages down by the gatehouse, Harry had shown Hermione and Emma to the manor home that he'd thought would be best for them. Nathan had still been too weak to join them, but he'd told them all that he trusted his wife's judgement. Daniel had not come, as he was involved in viewing Harry's memories of his various encounters with the dangers of the magical world, Bill and Fleur alongside him.

It was clear the moment she saw it that Emma fell in love with the manor house. Hermione had beamed before kissing Harry rather thoroughly before following her mother inside. Dobby had followed the pair of them discreetly, just in case of anything. These buildings had not been used in a long time, after all.

Next up had been Daphne, her mother and grandfather while Lily minded the younger Greengrass children. It helped ease some of the self-assumed guilt concerning not being there for her own son, and she hoped would help bring Luna back to normal.

When they reached the strangely built manor Daphne had looked at it in confusion, but Henerick Greengrass had looked at first surprised, then approving. While one arm was still in a sling he began to move about the building, wand in his free hand as he looked it over. Eleanor was at his elbow all the while, making notes and verbally laying out furniture. There was forced quality to her brightness, which Harry did not quite understand.

Now the three youngsters were heading to inspect the last of the manors, which likely would become the Bones place. The drive that led to it was lined with tall poplar trees, which swayed lightly in the gentle breeze, producing a soothing rustle of leaves. With the peaceful setting and it just being them, Harry felt that he could ask what he had been wondering.

"Is your mum enthusiastic about decorating then, Daphne?"

Daphne frowned lightly. "Not normally, though I would say she has excellent taste. Why?"

"She seemed, I don't know, forcing herself to be very eager..."

From his other side Susan sighed. "I think she's trying to focus on something, to block out or not think about..." she trailed off, glancing across to Daphne guiltily.

"My father." Daphne finished for her quietly.

Silence reigned as they approached the gates that led into the sub manor. Significantly smaller and lighter than the main gates, the one stood ajar, allowing the three to slip inside without hassle before pausing to look over the front of the building. It was a marked contrast to the one the Greengrasses would move into. The central structure had a low-pitched roof, with two long, single story wings either side. The far one had a spur on the end, in which three garage doors could be seen, with faded paint. The area in front of the building was a circle of open grass, with a low wall bordering it.

Silently the three walked to the front door, stepping up the couple of stained marble steps to reach it. A gentle push sent one half of the thick oak doors swinging back slowly, allowing bright sunlight to play across the dusty floor inside. Stepping within, they looked about with interest. The core of the building was a grand hall, no where near as fine as the main manor's hall, but still respectable and large enough. Balconies ran the length of the hall either side, reached by a sweeping grand staircase at the far end. It rose from the centre then split into two arms, with what appeared to be a large mural on the far wall. A wide door was under each arm, and there were other doors visible both on the upper level and under the balcony. The double doors mid-way along the hall on each side had to lead to the side wings.

Susan found herself smiling more as they moved about the building. Yes it was old and dusty, but beneath that dust was a fine looking place, one which she could easily call home.

They discovered that the wings held drawing rooms and the like, while the few rooms on the ground floor off the central hall included things like the kitchen and a small dining room. Well, small when compared to the one that was behind the far wall of the central hall. The rear half of that room was roofed in glass, with a magnificent view of the rolling forest beyond… or would, if the windows were cleaner. Moving upstairs, they discovered that the rooms off the balconies were decent sized bedrooms, while at the top of the stairs there was another door that led out the back. Stepping through these, they found a corridor that wrapped around a central area, likely the private family area. The outer wall and half the ceiling were glass, just as mucky as the roof of the dining hall beneath them. A couple of broken panes allowed them to look out over the roof in question, revealing the view of not only the forest in the background, but also the extensive back garden, clearly overgrown.

Susan was beaming as they looked about the area. This would certainly be more than fine for her and auntie Amelia. While it was close in style to their old home, there was enough difference to ensure they would not get homesick. She found herself imaging what the place would look like with a cleanup and some fresh furniture as she pushed the slightly open door to what had to be the master bedroom open. It took her a moment to realise there was movement in the room, and she came back to reality to see a pair of yellow eyes narrowing at her and hear a little hissing sound…

Hearing the hiss Harry looked up, saw an open mouth filling with rapidly brightening yellow light… and pushed Susan out of the doorway before spinning back himself just as a long tongue of fire shot out of the room, the narrow jet brushing over the window. He could feel the heat of the yellow flames even as they flickered and died… to reveal the sheet of glass that had been at the end had melted and was pooling on the floor, setting small flames in the old carpet alight. Looking across the open doorway, Harry saw Susan stood with her back flat to the wall, eyes wide as she looked from the molten window to him.

"Harry?" Daphne's voice made him turn to look at her. "While I know you like me…"

It was then that Harry realised their position. He'd spun out of the stream of fire… and into Daphne, pushing her flat against the wall herself, with his body half shielding her, pressing lightly into her right shoulder. The thing was his right knee was between hers, and his hand had come to rest squarely on her left breast. "Oh! Sorry." He said as he withdrew his hand. He was confused at Daphne's smile as he did though.

"It's okay Harry. No harm done." While it had been a but of a shock, Daphne had found that she hadn't really minded his hand being there. If fact, she was sure that she would grow to love having his hands touch her like that… likely even without clothes in the way. But what really pleased her was the fact he didn't jump away like a scalded cat, but withdrew steadily and calmly. Now, however, was not the time or place to explore such things. "What was that?"

Harry frowned as he edged towards the door. "Not sure…" He leaned over slowly, peeking around the doorframe into the room. As they had expected it was the master bedroom, dominated by the king-sized bed across from them. A dirty skylight allowed a little light in, but the room was mostly too dark to see clearly. Except the eyes that looked back at him from the bed. Golden yellow with a vertical slit for a pupil, they narrowed as he leaned further in. A mouth opened beneath them and the hiss came again. The creature beyond those eyes was mostly in shadow, but it was clearly not a snake. He could see a leg outlined, ending in three claws, and there was motion behind the head…

Harry jerked back as the mouth filled with yellow again, just before another spear of fire burst forth. He looked between the two young women with him. "I _think _it's some kind of baby dragon. Would explain the fire." He nodded towards a second window that was now a puddle of molten glass on the floor.

"But how did it get here?" Susan asked.

Harry shrugged. "No idea. Dobby!"

Almost instantly the elf appeared, looking up at him with wide, excited eyes. "Master Harry calls Dobby! Does he need something?" It was then that the elf noticed the small fires and the melted glass. "If Dobby may ask Master, what is happening here?"

"I think we've got a dragon problem." Harry said quickly. "Tell Victor to get over here quickly."

Dobby seemed to gasp before he vanished.

While they waited, Daphne tried to get a look at the assumed dragon within the room. For a few seconds there was nothing, then the hiss came again. She jerked back right away, but no flames came. "You're right Harry. I think it is a dragon." She said softly. "I saw the outline of wings. Wonder why it didn't flame me right off?"

"Maybe it likes blonds?" Susan commented cheekily. Daphne glared half-heartedly back.

Rushing foot steps sounded, and Harry turned to see Victor and Lily come around the corner. As the two approached Lily called out "Harry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine mum, but we've got a squatter." He waved towards the open door. "We think it's a dragon, only we've not got a good look at it since it's dark in there and it's not been that friendly…" He trailed off as a third person stepped up besides Lily, holding a plate of sandwiches of all things: Luna.

Seeing his gaze, Lily glanced to her left before speaking. "Oh, I'd just fixed Luna a sandwich when Dobby found us. Luna, why did you follow us?"

The young blond took no notice of her however, just stared towards the open door.

"Well, we can't just leave the young thing in there." Harry pressed on. "We're not sure just what species it is, but it's got to be a young one, given it's so small. Victor, was there any dragon breeding in the area?"

Victor shook his head. "Only the small colony the Potter's ran, until the law prohibiting dragon keeping was put in place. Rumour was a Dumbledore rammed the law through, as the Potters were business rivals with them at the time."

"Well, once we've contained this one, we'll have to contact Charlie Weasley to collect… Luna no!"

As Harry had been speaking Luna had stepped forwards to stand fully before the door, looking in. Harry started to reach for her but paused when he saw her face move. Her head tipped to one side, her eyes shifting. A look of wonder began to form on her features. Suddenly her free hand came up and picked up one of the sandwiches on the plate before her. Lightly she tossed it into the room. The sounds of something gobbling it down came out, before a croon emerged. Everyone was struck when a smile formed on the young blonds face… right before she stepped inside.

"Luna!" Harry called, coming up to the doorframe. He was reluctant to look around in case he provoked the dragon to attack again. With Luna in there…

More gobbling sounds came out, and then a new sound, one none of them had heard… ever.

Light, musical laughter, the laughter of a young woman.

"Don't wolf it down like that you silly little snorknak. You'll choke on it if you rush."

Harry shared astonished looks with the others at the sounds of Luna's voice, before he eased his way into the room. "_Lumos_." He said softly as he lifted his wand, allowing the light to fill the room so they could all see.

Luna was sat on the end of the bed, the plate on her lap as the little dragon was at her side. In the light it was clear to see that it was a dragon, though one unlike any of the ones Harry had seen. The head appeared a bit wide for the body, with the eyes protruding towards the top. Two curled, twisted horns emerged from the back of the dragon's head, while a small, hooked horn emerged from the tip of the snout. The neck led to a narrow body, from which four legs and a pair of wings sprouted. Each leg was thinner in the upper section than the lower, and ended in three blunt looking claws. A long tail trailed off from the hips, and from the back of the head all the way down the spine and tail were was a saw like fin, which they could see was soft as Luna was stroking the little dragon as it wolfed down one of the sandwiches. As they got closer they could see that its ribs were clear in the side, and one leg and a wing were clearly not right. As it's mouth opened once more Harry was surprised to see it had no teeth.

Luna giggled as she held the last one out, even as the dragon's head snapped forwards to bite down on it. She kept hold though, playing a little game of tug-of-war with the little thing, which Harry had to admit, now that he could see it, actually was kind of cute. The game didn't last long though, the sandwich tearing in two leaving a slice of meat hanging out. Once it's mouth was clear, by virtue of swallowing what it already had, the dragon snapped out again onto the loose meat, almost violently tugging the rest of it out from the remaining bread between Luna's fingers before gupling that down rapidly. Giggling as she tossed the remains of the sandwich into its opening mouth, Luna looked up to meet the others stunned gazes.

"He likes the tuna." She said happily, a smile playing over her features.

* * *

"Just what is it?"

"A dragon." Hermione swatted Harry's arm lightly for his answer to her question as they continued to watch as Lily examined the little thing. Luna had carried it out in her arms, the small dragon crooning, almost purring in fact. Once they were back in the main manor Luna had asked for more fish, which Dobby had provided, albeit cautiously. The little dragon however only had eyes for the fish meat brought out, almost diving into the plate to get it. A plate of sprats vanished one by one into the little thing, before a whole two-pound trout finally seemed to fill it. The dragon had actually burped, before curling on Luna's lap and falling asleep, still making that odd purring sound. With it sleeping, Lily had asked Luna to bring her new friend with her to the infirmary, so she could have a look at the obviously broken wing and leg. The dragon had raised it's eyelids sleepily as it was lifted and carried, but clearly was too contented to care about the handling. Luna remained with it, gently stroking the sail like back with a wondrous look on her face. It was so endearing to see her like this, so happy and content.

"He's malnourished, for one." Lily said gently. "On the verge of starvation. With this wing and a leg broken, he couldn't hunt." A wave of her wand and the leg bones moved back to match the leg on the other side.

"But just what is he? I mean, I don't recall ever reading about a dragon like him." Hermione persisted. She, her mum and the elder Greengrasses had returned to the main manor while the others had been bringing the little dragon back with them. Carla and Cynthia had both cooed and giggled over the little thing, and Astoria had 'awweed' as she'd helped Luna feed him. Lily had been smiling at the animation that Luna now had, while both Eleanor and Emma had been staring open mouthed at the little dragon.

Victor stepped in now, a book in his hands that he was flicking through. He'd peeled off as they returned to the main manor heading into the library, a frown on his face. At the sounds of turning pages several people looked at him. Then Eleanor Greengrass gasped.

"Is that a 'Book of Dragons' Book?" She asked excitedly.

"Yes ma'm." Victor answered, not looking up from the pages he was turning. "One of the last still in this country I reckon."

"What do you mean? Surely there are thousands of books about dragons…" Hermione began.

"Not like this one." Eleanor said reverently. "'The Book Of Dragons' is more than just a description; it's the title. Most books printed in the last several hundred years only list the mainstream, 'common' dragons, those which are well known. But the 'Book Of Dragons' has every single known dragon race listed. Habits, strengths, weaknesses, everything." Her expression turned wistful. "My family used to have one at one point. A family heirloom that had been passed down several dozen generations before it was confiscated. The Book has its origins in the Vikings, the true dragon slayers. And the first tamers and trainers."

Victor now stopped, looking between the book and the small dragon on the table. Smiling, he laid the book down before turning it so that the others could read the page. Clear across the one page was a drawing of a dragon that almost exactly matched the little fellow they had found. At the top the name was written in bold. **Terrible Terror**.

"Terrible Terror? How?" Astoria asked almost indignantly.

"Remember the first version of this book was written when Vikings fought and killed dragons. They named them as such." Victor explained softly.

Hermione was reading intensely. "Adults reach the length of a mans arm…" She glanced at the sleeping fellow, measuring him with her eyes. "I'd say he's nearly fully matured. 'Pack creatures, social habits. Very affectionate to those who feed them. Often had more guts then sense.' Ideal Gryffindor then. 'Playful and mischievous.' Guess the name does fit…"

At that moment there was a thump from near the dragon, and all eyes turned to see an orange ball of fur standing before the dragon. Crookshanks. He growled at the sleeping lizard. The Terror half opened both eyes to look the half-kneazle in the eye. After a minute, in which Hermione feared she would have to rescue her familiar from being roasted alive, the Terror's eyes closed again and Crookshanks relaxed, sitting his butt down and started to wash himself.

"Well, that was unexpected." Harry said quietly. "Wonder how Hedwig will take to him?"

"While that is an interesting idea Harry…" Amelia said from where she'd been stood near the rear of the group. "…We may not be able to find out." She looked at Luna as she stepped forwards. "Miss Lovegood, you know the law about dragons…"

"No…" Luna's reply was one of denial, and her arms curled protectively around the sleeping dragon.

Amelia hesitated. The law was the law. But she could see that Luna had already formed a deep emotional attachment to the little dragon. To separate them… It would be cruel and inhumane. "I suppose we might be able to work out an exception, given that he's not expected to grow any more…" She said with a small smile.

Luna beamed happily.

McGonagall sighed. "And yes, I'll sort out an exception for Hogwarts." Then her strict professor mask fell into place. "But you have to keep him under control and train this one not to scorch anyone he doesn't like. I will not have other students burnt because of your new pet."

Luna just smiled. "Oh you don't have to worry Professor. He's really friendly. He was just startled and hungry earlier." She stroked the sleeping dragon with a blissful expression.

* * *

Neville shook Harry's hand while his grandmother spoke with Lily. "Thanks for inviting me in Harry. And telling me about…" He paused.

Harry smiled slightly. "I know Neville. It's not easy. I still see Sirius falling through the veil every time I see her." Shaking himself Harry glanced around. "You sure your home is safe? If ever you need a refuge…"

"We'll be okay Harry. Gran's hired the goblins to rework the wards and defences of the Manor." Both young men winced at the thought. "But thanks for the offer. See you tomorrow?"

"Not tomorrow." Harry quickly replied, looking pained, his eyes haunted.

"Why not?" Hannah asked from her place by Neville.

"We're busy tomorrow." Harry said quietly.

Hermione nodded. "It's D Day." There was an undefinable dark note in her tone.

The young coupled looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean Hermione?"

It fell to Harry to answer. "We're paying a visit tomorrow, to people that Hermione, my mum, and the others don't like at all."

"You've got that right Harry." Daphne said icily.

Neville looked at the scowls on the others witches faces, very glad he was not the one who caused them to feel this way. "Who Harry?"

Harry heaved a deep, resigned sigh. "My relatives. The Dursleys."

"Yes. _Them._" Hermione hissed.

Yes, Neville was _very_ glad he was not one of them.

* * *

**A/N: **Why yes, that is the sound of doom approaching Dudley... And now Luna has her pet/familiar, a dragon with 'crumpled' horns... *wink* Start picturing Draco's or Snape's reactions to meeting him...


	33. Dursley's Devastated, Black's Reborn

**A/N: ***sigh* This chapter fought me tooth and nail. only just finished the last bit last night, so once again un-beta'd.

I must also warn you all that my next planned update on the 11th of Feb might be delayed. Not only was this chapter a struggle, it was aided by my computer having a serious fault. I fear the only way to fix it will be to hit that dreaded 'Restore to factory defaults' button.

On the plus side, I hope to pick up the pace in the next couple of chapters, though there will likely be slower one for notable events (such as Birthdays)

And now, the Dursleys have some guests... I'll warn you all now: Vernon has a foul mouth when he's enraged.

* * *

Vernon Dursley scowled as he read the morning paper. "Bloody Liberals. Deport the whole lot of those foreign scum back to where they came from, that's what they should do, not pamper them on tax-payer's money."

Petunia just nodded silently in agreement. Vernon had been in bad mood ever since he'd gone to kings cross to collect her nephew… and returned empty-handed. She'd not asked, as the colour of his face was a clear warning not to press.

Part of the problem was that Vernon was confused about how he felt. On the one hand he didn't have to feed or even see that no-good freak nephew again this summer, which pleased him no end. He hated the little brat, and everything that came with him from his abnormal powers to his abnormal parents, thankfully dead. People should just not be able to do what they could do. On the other hand though, he'd been letting several chores build up over the winter for the self-same brat to do. Now, without the Freak, he'd have to do them. Vernon's natural reaction to confusion was to get angry, and having to do the work he'd planned for his nephew to do just added to it. Normally it would be Harry who bore the brunt of his anger, but now he was without that outlet.

Petunia herself was just glad to see the back of her nephew. His presence had always been a reminder of her sister… the younger sister that she'd been close with as a child, but whose magic had created a rift between them. Their parents had been all doting and pleased with Lily, but Petunia had been sidelined in favour of the younger, prettier witch. For Lily had grown more beautiful with each year, another source of friction between the two of them. Petunia's jealousy had turned to hatred and anger as the years went on, till she reached the point where she all but denied the existence of Lily. But with _him_ around… she could not deny that knowledge. And every time he looked at her for whatever reason, she saw Lily's eyes, and she got the sense that her sister was watching her from beyond the grave.

But there was a part of her that was uneasy with Harry not having returned. Petunia had re-read the letter left with him more carefully after they had taken the boy in, though for a long time she'd tried to forget. That short, verbal letter last year – after the boy claimed to be attacked by Dementors – had reminded her of the details within. She would never forget that voice…

"I fully agree with you Vernon." The visiting Marge said over her teacup, which seemed almost child-sized in her chubby hand. "Whole lot deserve to be shot anyway. They ran away from their own countries for a reason. Criminals, I expect." She had been overjoyed to discover the boy had not returned. Had been expecting it, she said. She'd hated the little brat every bit as much as Vernon did.

The last occupant of the Dursley kitchen, Dudley, sat silently brooding. More than his father, he didn't know what to feel. While not the smartest kid in town, Dudley was aware enough to know and realise that his cousin – the cousin he'd tormented, bullied and abused for his whole life – had saved his life last summer. Dudley could not convince himself that if the situations had been reversed, he'd have done the same. That knowledge had been eating away at him over the last nine months, gnawing at his conscious, stunted though it was. He'd not told either of his parents this, but while he'd been in the grip of… whatever it was that had attacked them, he'd seen his life flash before his eyes, everything he'd done in his nearly sixteen years. But all had been from outside himself, as if he'd been viewing the events of an action movie. And he'd not liked what he'd seen.

Vernon had just taken a swing of his morning tea when the door bell rung. "Who the bloody hell knocks at this hour?" He snarled once his airway was clear, glaring at the clock as he did. It was just before eight in the morning. In a few minutes he had to set off for work. He did not need some bible thumping pansy knocking at his door right now!

Petunia had already moved through to the hall towards the door as her husband spoke. Reaching the door she opened it with her blandest, most disinterested expression on, hoping whoever it was on the doorstep would leave quickly.

What she saw waiting for her caused her expression to vanish into one of pure terror.

Lily Potter smiled without warmth at her sister. "Hello Petunia."

"Your… YOUR DEAD!"

"You _thought_ I was dead." Lily cut her sisters half scream off. "_Hoped _I was dead." Her smile had faded as her hand came up to rest on the shoulder of her son standing next to her. "Harry here has told me everything about his life here. Everything." It wasn't strictly true, but Petunia would never accept or understand the truth. Besides, there were others with them.

Eyes frantically darting left and right, Petunia noticed the others arranged around the Potters. On the Boy's free side there was a bushy-haired girl with hard brown eyes glaring at her, with two other shapely girls just beyond her, also scowling. On Lily's other side stood a man whose whole manner just screamed 'lawyer' carrying a briefcase. With him was a tall, well built man in plain clothes. The lawyer stepped forwards. "Mrs Dursley, we have several matters to discuss with both you and your husband. May we step inside?" Realising that his polite words were an order, not a request, Petunia just nodded, too shocked to speak. As the others followed her in, the plain clothed man turned and nodded to another man stood at the corner of the property, hidden from the front door by next doors hedge. The uniformed police officer nodded in reply before speaking into his radio. From the far end of Privett Drive, two vans and two cars moved down, all marked with the livery of the Surrey Police Force.

When Vernon saw who was stepping inside his house, his face turned a dangerous purple. He struggled to rise from his chair, while his sister scowled darkly. "What the hell are you doing here freak?" He roared at Harry, his rage blinding him to the others who were behind the boy. "You ungrateful little brat! Well, you're going to get what you deserve now freak!"

"Yes, he will." Lily said softly, though her tone cut through Vernon's rant as effectively as a knife through butter. "Justice."

Vernon glanced up at her, before he did a double take. Slowly his jaw fell open as the colour vanished from his face and his eyes widened. Back at the table Dudley, having never seen a picture of Harry's mum, was looking between her and the other three young women clustered around his cousin with no small amount of envy and lust.

"Mr Vernon, Mrs Petunia Dursley…" The Lawyer had stepped forward. "My name is Stewart. I am a representative of Gringott's Merchant bank."

"Never heard of them." Vernon sneered. Over his shoulder however Petunia looked confused, then alarmed.

"We have a… select cliental. One of which is the Potter family. One of our more prestigious and profitable clients. Which leads to our business with yourselves." As he spoke he withdrew a folder from his briefcase, which he flipped open with one hand in a clearly well practiced move.

"On November the First, nineteen-hundred and eighty one, you took into your home one Harry James Potter, son of James Charles Potter and Lily Marie Potter nee Evans. As part of this, you were granted a monthly allowance of four hundred and eighty-five pounds to pay for his schooling, feeding and care." He now looked up at the Dursleys, who were displaying a rage of expressions. Petunia was white face with shock, while Vernon was shaking. With rage it seemed, given the purple hue to his face and narrowed eyes. Dudley's eyes had snapped open at the value, while Marge's were narrowed, calculating. "It has come to our attention that you have failed to meet your end of the deal, using the money on yourselves while mistreating and abusing young Harry."

"We never wanted the little brat in the first place!" Vernon roared, shaking his fist at them. "The no good, worthless freak was just dumped on our doorstep during the night! I just knew he'd be trouble!"

"But… you still took him in. And the money earmarked for his care." Mr Stewart cut across Vernon, his ice cold, practically emotionless tones silencing the larger man. "We at Gringott's consider your actions fraud, a crime against one of our biggest clients.

"In addition… this house you live in was a gift from Lily Potter to you on your wedding to her sister."

"What are you talking about?" Vernon thundered.

"Don't you remember Petunia?" Lily now said softly, her eyes on her sisters. "I gave the keys to you at the reception, but told you had to collect the deed from the Potters home."

"She's right Vernon." Petunia said quietly.

Vernon now whirled on his wife. "You told me it was an inheritance from your family, a great aunt who'd passed away recently!" His scowl was terrible to behold. Petunia wilted under it, fearful. Her reaction did not go unnoticed.

"As you live here in a home owned legally by the Potter Family, we at Gringotts consider you as living in rented accommodation." Stewart pressed on. "We've had this house valued by three experts, and they have recommended that for a four bed house such as this, a rental fee of four hundred and fifty pounds a month is in order, given that you have been paying the upkeep costs yourselves. We, as the Potter Families financial advisors, are now calling all rent due immediately."

Vernon was puffing and spluttering, his face an angry red-purple. Harry wondered if he was about to have that long overdue heart attack or aneurysm. Marge was scowling something fierce, while Dudley was sitting there looking very pale. It was clear he'd worked out where things were going.

It fell to Petunia to ask. "How much are we talking about?"

Mr Stewart looked at his notes. "Well, factoring all the years of unpaid rent, the money earmarked for Harry and the accumulated interest on said funds…" He looked up at Vernon sternly. "The total due as of this moment is a little under two million three hundred thousand pounds."

For a moment silence reigned. No one knew what to say. Vernon looked thunderstruck. Harry was stunned himself. While Hermione had told him the raw monthly value, he'd never actually thought about how the money would add up over the nearly fifteen years since he'd been left on the Dursley's doorstep. Month after month of rent unpaid, interest building up. Month after month of value spent on themselves that should have been his.

A loud thud came from the kitchen, and Harry looked to see Dudley on the floor. Clearly his brain had been unable to cope with the value, and he'd fainted. Looking back at his aunt and uncle, he thought Petunia looked about ready to do the same.

The sound of Dudley hitting the floor must have restarted Vernon's brain, as a second later he bellowed. "THAT IS TOTAL RUBBISH! I WILL NOT STAND HERE AND HAVE FREAKS LIKE YOU DEMAND MONEY FROM DECENT, HONEST, HARD WORKING PEOPLE LIKE US! I SHOULD HAVE TOSSED YOU IN THE RUBBISH LIKE I WANTED TO YOU LITTLE SHIT! YOU'VE BROUGHT NOTHING BUT BAD LUCK AND MISERY TO OUR LIVES!" The spittle was flying as he stalked forwards, hands curling into claws while his eyes were wild with rage. "YOU AND YOUR WHORES COME INTO OUR HOME AND PUSH THIS DRIVEL! WELL, I WON'T STAND FOR IT, YOU HEAR ME YOU LITTLE FREAK! WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU…"

"That's quite enough Mr Dursley." The other man now stepped forwards as he re-entered the house, his expression stern and unyielding. Vernon stopped to glare at him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, to order me around in my own home freak?" He snarled threatening.

The man however didn't flinch, but reached into the pocket of his coat. "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself…"

"I don't give a flying fuck as to who the hell you…" Vernon's voice died however as the man held up an open ID wallet. The police emblem shone brightly.

"…I am Detective Chief Inspector Barstow of the Surrey Police." As he said this two uniformed police officers stepped into the room behind him. Both were clearly holding tightly on their emotions.

Vernon's face was turning ashen as he looked between the ID, Barstow, and Harry. "You… you going to let them get away with this crap?"

DIC Barstow glared at Vernon. "Mrs Potter brought this matter to the Essex force last week. It was passed to me. I could not believe that someone would treat their own nephew with such contempt. I had to see it for myself. But now there is no doubt in my mind. And I doubt there will be any in the minds of the jury either. Mr Vernon Dursley I'm placing you under arrest for fraud, child abuse, theft and inflicting grievous body harm to a minor, one Harry James Potter. You do not have to say anything, but anything you say may be used against you in court."

Vernon was looking ghoul like, then his face hardened as he turned towards Harry. "You little shit! You squealed on your just punishments! I'LL KILL YOU!" He lunged at Harry, hands outstretched as he started to foam at the mouth.

Harry started to step back, but before Vernon could take another step two burly officers stepped around Harry and restrained his arms, pulling him up short before his nephew. Spittle was sprayed out as Vernon struggled and thrashed in the grip of the two men, enraged beyond reason. All the while he continued to rage and threaten Harry. "I KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE FREAK! I'LL THRASH THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT YOU!" His eyes jumped to Lily who had moved to stand just behind Harry. "AND YOU, YOU… FILTHY WHORE! YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD WITH THAT FREAKY LAZY BUM OF A HUSBAND, THAT POTTER BRAT! I'LL FUCKING MAKE SURE YOU'LL WISH YOU WERE DEAD YOU FUCKING SLUT!"

A third officer stepped between them, pepper spray in hand. Vernon had just opened his mouth to start another rant when he got a face full. He howled in a mixture of rage and pain, but continued to struggle and resist.

"That's it! Tazer him!" Barstow snapped, and the third officer whipped out the device. A snap later and Vernon jumped before slumping in the hands of the two officers, still conscious but clearly having lost all motor functions. "I'm also charging you with intention to commit murder, and threats against Lily Potter…"

"Unhand my brother at once you pigs!" Marge Dursley had snapped out of her shock and waddled in, grabbing hold of one of the officers holding Vernon. "That little brats had it coming, every year! That bitch deserves a good slapping!"

Two more officers jumped forwards, restraining the overweight woman as DCI Barstow swung round to face her. "As for you… Margery Dursley, I'm placing you under arrest for child abuse, fraud, illegal business operations and tax evasion." The investigation by the police and Gringotts contacts had revealed that the bulldog breeding site Marge ran was in fact without any kind of permits or license.

At this point Marge's obese bulldog Ripper toddled in whining. Marge's head whipped round to see him. "Get the brat Ripper!" She yelled, her anger completely crushing all reason.

Nearly blind though he was, the old Bulldog could still smell Harry. He growled threatening as he advanced. But before anyone could act another growl, much deeper and more powerful, came from the hall. Ripper froze as a much larger German Alsatian police dog entered with his handler, eyes locked on the smaller bulldog. For a second nothing happened, but then Ripper, too stupid to understand the danger, leapt forwards, angling for Harry's leg. The Alsatian needed no prompting from his handler and intercepted the bulldog mid air. Jaws locked round Rippers neck as the two dogs landed, but only enough to pin and hold. Ripper struggled and scrabbled, trying to free himself and attack the bigger dog. When one claw raked the Alsatian's leg, instinct took over and with a might shake of it's head, the police dog broke the bulldogs neck. Discarding the corpse the Alsatian returned to its handler's side, who knelt down to examine the wound inflicted.

Marge stared open mouth in horror at her dog's still form, before she screeched in outrage. "YOUR MONSTER KILLED MY RIPPER! I'LL HAVE THAT MONGREL BEAST DESTROYED FOR THAT!"

DCI Barstow just glared at her. "I think he just saved a vet from having to put that excuse you call a bulldog down. It was going to be destroyed anyway. And I'm further charging you with setting your dog on Harry Potter, and with harming police property. Take them outside." The officers began to push both Vernon and Marge, now with their hands cuffed behind their backs, out the front door. Barstow stepped over to the Alsatian's handler. "How is he?"

"Long but relatively shallow sir." The handler replied as he ran a hand down the leg, fingers either side of the wound, while his other hand stroked the Alsatian's head. "Bengie can carry on, but I'll want to give him a rabies shot once we get back to the station. Who knows were that things been, or what it's got."

Barstow nodded before advancing towards Petunia, who'd backed up against the nearest wall when Vernon had gone into his rage. Her face was chalk white and horror filled. "Mrs Dursley?" When her eyes finally met his he pressed on. "I'm taking you into custody, pending charges of child abuse, neglect and fraud. Do you understand?" At her shaky nod he made a motion with his hand as a woman officer stepped up to escort the shaking, tearful woman outside. Stepping into the kitchen, Barstow looked down at Dudley, who had been woken by his father's yelling. "Dudley Drusley, you are also being placed into custody pending charges, including but not limited to vandalism, theft, and assault. Other charges may follow. Do you understand?"

Dudley looked up at the stern police officer, then at the other uniformed officers who were visible. Footsteps from upstairs indicated that they were already searching the house. All fight left him instantly. He may be able to hide stuff from his mom, but he had no illusions that these professionals would not find his secret stashes. Life as he knew it was over. The sins of his past few years were coming back to bite his ample ass. Looking back at Barstow he nodded in resignation.

"Very good." Barstow said, relieved that the boy was not putting up a fight like his father. Perhaps he'd inherited some brains from his mothers' side after all. As the obese youth was escorted outside Barstow stepped over to Harry's group, who were standing together in one corner of the living room, staying out of the officers way. "That was a brave thing you did lad." He said softly to Harry. "I'm not sure I could face such people again if the same had happened to me."

Harry just bowed his head, his shoulders slumped. It was clear that some of what Vernon had yelled was sticking. Lily moved to lay an arm across his shoulders, tears in her eyes. She looked at the DCI. "Do you need us for anything else?"

"No ma'am. The mister has already damned himself, as has his sister. It remains to be seen how much all this will affect your sister and nephew, but those two are certain to face time behind bars. We'll be more certain of conviction the more we examine the place."

"Good. I suggest though you look in the cupboard under the stairs." Lily told him as she gently turned Harry around.

Mr Stewart snapped his briefcase closed. "Mrs Potter… We'll hold off valuing everything till the police are through. But as of this moment, I doubt the Durlseys can repay their debt to your family."

Lily just nodded. It was what she'd expected… though the amount to be repaid had stunned her just as much as everyone else. "Let us know what the final balance is, and we'll go from there."

"One more thing, before you go…" DCI Barstow stepped closer to Harry, using one hand to gently lift his chin till he could look the younger man in the eye. "I just want to wish you luck with your other demon. That lord is out of my league. But you'll beat him."

The whole group looked at the Inspector with wide eyes. Daphne was the first to put the pieces together. "Are… are you…" She trailed off as he shook his head.

"No. My sister however… she would have finished her seven years with Ravenclaw in '77. Fled to the states to escape after her fifth year. Kept in touch with your side ever since though. Keep informed and all that." He looked back at Harry. "You're a good young man Harry. You'll win, I know."

Harry looked into the older man's eyes, and saw the conviction in them. This was not the gaze of one of the sheep-like masses of the wizarding world however. This was a thorough, frank assessment by a man who had to sort the truth from the lies. That knowledgeable, frank assessment touched something within him, and he stood a little straighter, nodding in reply.

Henry Barstow watched the young man walk out, surrounded by his entourage. A small smile danced at the corners of his mouth as he did. He had seen the level of commitment all the women had to him, each slightly different. Harry was certainly nothing like the image the _Prophet_ had painted… but then Henry only trusted that rag to be a shambles. This morning's issue however showed a new direction, perhaps a whole change of style. He'd have to keep a close eye on things.

Meanwhile… he looked back around the ground floor of number Four Privett Drive. There was going to be a lot to do. The Dursleys pressed all the wrong buttons with him, and he intended to see that every dirty secret they had was dragged out and into the daylight. He'd run down to Mr Dursleys' office later on to see what his team there had uncovered. He expected to find signs of dirty deals and the like. Vernon Dursley was clearly the kind of man who thought he could do what he liked and get away with it. Like treating his nephew the way he did.

His eyes landed on the small cupboard door set under the stairs… or rather, on the bolt and closable grill on it. Frowning he stepped forwards, Lily Potter's parting words playing through his mind. No simple storage space would need to be locked from the outside… unless what was being stored there had to be contained. Like a prisoner. Unlatching the bolt he swung the door open, dropping to one knee so he could lean in and look around. The naked bulb overhead drew the eye, and he clicked it on with the simple pull cord reluctantly. The light cast hurt his eyes, but when he looked away he forget the discomfort. The space was barely three foot across and tall, with the bare wooden stairs overhead halving the space. The far wall was barely two feet away. Dog kennels had more room. But the signs of human inhabitation were clear. A worn nearly flat and stained foam mattress was on the floor, with a battered tin bucket tucked away in the smallest corner. A faded and ragged blanket was piled on the mattress. And there, written on the underside of one step, in blue crayon and an unsteady hand 'Harry's Room'. The marks on the mattress and blanket were old, but he'd seen enough to recognise old bloodstains.

A dark coldness came over Henry Barstow as he slowly stood, setting his features into a grim mask. How on earth had the poor boy survived this? And how on God's green Earth had his treatment gone unnoticed by those who were supposed to be looking out for things like this? From Harry's testimony, he knew the neighbours were aware of at least some of the way the Dursleys had treated Harry, but none of them had done anything to stop it or help. Somehow the Dursleys had escaped justice for so many years, treating young Harry as their own personal slave and whipping boy. It was clear from the tapes he'd been sent that Harry had played down a lot of what they had done, even if only a little. It was a common reaction with abused children. The other common reaction was for them to, in later life, become abusers themselves.

Leaving the cupboard door open, he almost stormed upstairs, stopping at the two doors that led into the boy's bedrooms. No two rooms, despite being almost identical in size and shape, could be more different. The one was lavishly filled with expensive gifts and toys, clothes and excess. The bowed mattress on the bed clearly showed that this was Dudley's room. In contrast, Harry's room was as abyss of neglect. Unpainted wall, broken junk piled in the corners, and a bed that should have been condemned years ago. The desk under the window had a leg replaced with a broken baseball bat, and there were no blinds or curtains before those windows. The floor was bare, warped wood. And the mattress… he could see, even from the hall, the springs that were pushing their way through the material. Even the door was damning. Three bolts, two locks and a clearly second hand cat flap roughly installed into the wood.

Henry Barstow's mind went back to the tapes he'd been sent from the Essex Force Office. The first time he'd listened to them, he'd thought the thing was hoax. But the tones of the kid… that could not have been faked. Then he'd had to fight down the nausea he'd felt at the thought that anyone could be so cruel to a child. The second time, he'd listened carefully, forcefully pushing aside his own emotional reactions to really listen. The more he'd listened, the more he'd come to admire the kid for withstanding everything he'd been through, for enduring what amounted to almost eleven years of torture.

A pang of guilt had gone through him. Both the muggle world and the magical had failed the kid, time and time again. This time, however… they would not. Harry Potter deserved justice, and DCI Henry Barstow was going to be damned before he let that be denied him.

Stepping outside, he glared over at the four Dursleys were they were stood at the end of their drive, surrounded by officers. Vernon appeared to still be in a daze, but Marge was screaming abuse at anyone and everyone, clearly trying to throw her weight around. It was not endearing her to the officers with them.

Suddenly Petunia gasped, before she starting crying. Looking about, DCI Barstow's eye landed on a cluster of folk stood in the next drive over, whispering and pointing at them. Most looked about the same age as the Dursley adults. Scanning the area, he saw curtains twitching and others stood by cars, clearly pausing before going to work to watch the spectacle. Vultures. Harry had mentioned how the neighbours believed the drivel the Dursleys had said, fallen for the 'respectable' front they put up outside their house. When the interviewing officer had gently probed, Harry had told how his aunt Petunia was always trying to poke her nose into the local gossip, leaning over fences and hedges to hear about any details. He'd even made a small joke that this habit was the cause of her having such a long neck. Well, the locals would certainly have an eyeful of gossip today, and for many months time if they acted in any way like he expected.

Struck with a thought, he waved to one of his assistant DI's to step closer. Once the younger man had done so he spoke quickly. "Take a couple of uniform and do the rounds of the neighbours. I want to know why they bought the crap the Dursleys fed them. There is no way none of them couldn't have seen the signs of what these… people, were doing to Mister Potter. Let them know that all four of the Dursley family will not be returning any time soon. The boy Dudley is implicated in being the leader of the local gang. I'd like to make a clean sweep of the lot. Let's get all the bad-un's off the streets in one go."

DI Smith nodded grimly. "You know some of them will bolt, governor."

"All the more proof of their guilt, DI Smith. We may not get them prison time, but we can certainly give them a taster of where their current lifestyle is leading them. Those two, however…" His gaze was firmly on Vernon and Marge Dursley, who were being forced into the back of a police car to be taken back to the station. They could actually see the rear of the Astra sink down under the combined weight of the obese siblings. "…They're not going to see daylight for many, many years to come if I have anything to say about it."

"I agree sir." DI Smith's eyes tracked to the remaining two Dursleys. Petunia was sobbing with her arms around her son. "Think the misses and the kid will testify against those two?"

Barstow looked at the pair. "Hmmm… maybe. From Potter's testimony most of the abuse originated from the uncle. Certainly all the physical and verbal. She inflicted emotional harm more through neglect and lack of action than any direct action. The kid… well, he could be excused as just following his fathers example, plus at that age…" Barstow trailed off as he remembered the look in Dudley's eyes when he'd been placed into custody. "I think he's woken up to what he's been doing lately. We'll see."

* * *

Lily Potter watched her son carefully after they had all flooed back home from Arabella Figg's home. Outwardly he was light hearted enough to fool most people, but it was clear that he was still hurting. When she met the eyes of the other witches close to him, she could see in their eyes that they could also see how he was really feeling. Despite all their work and effort, Harry still, on some level, at least partly believed what Vernon said.

"Hey Harry." Luna's voice came from the side unexpectedly. Lily turned to look at the adorable blond… and had to blink at the sight. Luna was dressed plainly but nicely, without a radish or cork in sight. The shock came from the little dragon that had not left her side since they found him. The Terrible Terror's forelegs were resting on the girls shoulders, it's wounded wing cushioned on her blond hair. The head was held at the same level as hers… causing a strong effect as the protruding eyes of the dragon were at the same level as her own. The end of the tail was wrapped around Luna's waist, and it cocked its head to one side as it made a chirping like sound. "It's too nice a day to be down." Luna continued. "It'll spoil your mood come later."

Harry sighed. "Your right Luna." He smiled a little. "I just… need to work a few things out."

"Well, don't take too long big brother." Luna smiled dreamily. "Your last wife is waiting."

Chuckles rose from the group as Harry flushed a little. "Don't remind me Luna."

"Oh, don't you want her?" Luna cocked her head to one side. The Terrible Terror mimicked the motion, still watching them all unblinking.

"It's more complicated that that…" Daphne began to say, but trailed off when that dual gaze moved to her.

"Does it have to be so?"

Harry took the moment to step away, towards the entrance hall. As he did Lily could see that his shoulders slumped a bit again.

"Mrs Potter?" Lily turned to regard Luna, noting in passing that Hermione was fussing over a clearly disgruntled Crookshanks, while Susan and Daphne appeared to be discussing Luna's last point. Again she was struck by how much the Terrible Terror suited Luna, despite not yet living up to it's name. The little dragon was certainly curious, watching everything with those large eyes, but it had not been any trouble at all. "Harry needs you now."

Lily smiled as she gently reached her hand out to rest it on Luna's free shoulder. The little dragon made a crooning purr like sound as she did. "He needs us all Luna."

"Yes, but you most of all right now." Luna tipped her head towards the entrance hall. Again, the dragon copied her. "He knows _of _you, but doesn't _know_ you. And his father's even worse. What he does know though…"

Lily froze for a moment before closing her eyes, swearing lightly under her breath. Of course. Harry only knew them both from what others had said. And not all that had been said of James had been polite. True, yes. She still loved the man he became, but Lily had not allowed herself to become blind to his flaws. He'd grown out of the cocky arrogance that had marked his younger years, but he'd always been mischievous and playful. Lily hadn't minded; it had added spice to their love life, and kept things light when everything else was heading into darkness. But the almost war like state that had arisen between James and Serverus pained her. Both had been at fault with that. She opened her eyes to look the young blond in the eyes.

"Thank you Luna, for pointing that out. Please, feel free to do so again anytime." She smiled warmly at the young witch. "And you can drop the formality. Call me Lily."

Luna's eyes widened a bit more, and a confusing mixture of hope, longing and worry crossed her face. "Really?"

"Really." Lily said as she went down to one knee to be on the same level as Luna. "I know that I can't replace your mother Luna. I only vaguely knew Celeste when we were at Hogwarts. But I hope that she'd approve of me looking after you from now on."

Luna seemed on the verge of tears as she rapidly stepped forwards, arms opening wide. Lily reciprocated, wrapping the girl in a hug, mindful of the dragon clinging to her back. Said dragon purred more noticeably as it rubbed its head against hers.

"Thank you Lily… mom." Luna said quietly after a long moment, and Lily felt her heart lurch. She'd spoken to Raynor a bit after she'd returned to the land of the living, after the others had gone to bed. She'd picked up that he'd not said everything when talking about her state after that fateful night. She'd suspected, but wanted confirmation. By all rights, the Killing Curse Voldemort had struck her with _should _have killed her outright. Her soul should not have been only partially loosened from her body. Something else must have taken some of the power from that spell.

She and James had never planned on Harry being an only child. But fate had had other plans.

Sensing movement around them, Lily opened her eyes to see the other girls had joined them. Hermione had her arms full of orange fur, but Astoria Greengrass was stood next to Luna, one hand trailing lightly down the Terror's back. Katie Bell smiled when she met Lily's eyes. Though the action didn't quite erase the shadow of pain in her eyes. "Go on, Harry needs you."

Luna released Lily as she stepped back, smiling brightly. "Remind him that James was more than just what he's heard." She said cryptically.

Lily beamed at all of them for being so understanding even as she tried to figure out what Luna had meant. She was still pondering when she reached the front door. Placing her hand on the knob she glanced at the mirror to one side, a reflexive check of her appearance… and froze as her eyes landed on a small china bowl below it. _'Of course! THAT should get his attention!'_ She thought as she scooped the keys from within. Stepping outside she saw Harry was stood on the lowest step, gazing towards the drive, seemingly lost in thought. When she stepped down to his level he looked at her for a moment before looking outwards again.

"Harry? What's on your mind?"

Harry sighed before answering her. "I just… I've got several different images of dad in my mind… and I can't fit them together. In some he's a bully, others a hero. It's just…"

Lily sighed herself. "I admit Harry, he was a complex man. Like yourself." She paused to gather her thoughts.

"When I first met him, back in our first year, James was just a cocky boy to me. He was not outwardly arrogant like Malfoy, but there was a certain self-belief that got under my skin at first. When he was planning something, a glint would appear in his eye that hinted at how devious he was. I admit, I found him fascinating even back then, as much as how his pranks disgusted me." She chuckled lightly. "It didn't help that even as a second year he was good looking. As he matured, he just got better.

"When we started dating, which I admit was when I finally relented to my own feelings and gave in, he showed me a very different side to him. I think only myself, Remus and Sirius saw that side of him outside of his family. He was still playful, but it was more to entertain and amuse. I also began to see how those he pranked were more often bullies themselves. While his vigilante acts still grated a little, I could see the effect on others. He was helping others find hope and courage when things were starting to go terribly wrong.

"And then…" She trailed off wistfully. Harry looked at her curiously.

"What mum? What did he do?"

Lily smiled playfully at him. "He made a dream of mine come true on our wedding."

Harry was openly amazed. "Really? How?"

"Let me show you." Taking his hand she began to pull him away from the manor.

A look of panic crossed his face. "Errr… it's not something to do with your wedding night, right?"

Lily stopped, looked back at him in shock, before laughing aloud. "Oh Harry! Nothing like that! Though… I will admit, what he did do certainly gave him bonus points for that event!"

Harry was flushed crimson as Lily stopped before the first of the garage doors. Still chuckling she selected one key from the ring she held before slotting it into the central door handle. The clunk of the lock disengaging brought him back to the present.

"No. What he did… was give me this as a gift." She said as the door swung up and out of the way.

Harry stared wide-eyed into the space within. The long garage appeared to be subdivided into separate enclosed bays, but that detail he only realised later. At that moment his eyes were drinking in the sleek, gleaming form that sat within. Low lights along the side highlighted the car that crouched before him, playing over the chrome edging and leather seats. The front had an oval form, with four round headlights glinting in the sunlight. The chrome front bumper was supported proud of the bodywork, which was a deep, rich green. There was no roof, just a thick, T shaped roll bar that linked the middle of the low windscreen with the pillars behind the long doors, covered in what looked like black leather. The bonnet and boot seemed impossibly long, and the whole thing just looked like it was eager to race down the road.

"What… is it?" Harry asked quietly, reverently. Awe filled his tone.

Lily smiled fondly as she stepped down the side of the car to the driver's door, letting her hand run over the right front panel as she did. "My wedding present from the Marauders. A nineteen seventy-eight Triumph Stag." She paused before opening the door. "They somehow managed to find one of the last off the line, then hid it away without me knowing a thing. I'm not sure just how long it took, but when I was finally presented with it, those three had charmed it far beyond what Arthur with that Anglia." Slowly Lily settled into the drivers seat, sighing with happiness. It had been far too long since she'd sat behind the wheel of her car, but it was as if she'd hadn't been gone at all. The seat was still in the position she liked it in, everything as she'd had to leave it when they had gone into hiding. Excitement built in her veins as she set the choke and slide the ignition home. Normally after such a long period of time inactive a car had to be gone over with a fine-toothed comb to deal with the deterioration that occurred. But she knew how each of these bays had stasis charms built into them, tied to the garage doors. When the door had been closed on this car in nineteen eighty, time for the car had frozen, leaving it as pristine now as it was then.

Turning the key the first step, all the lights came on across the dash, bright and eager. Looking up and out, Lily could see the excitement in Harry's eyes, mirroring what she felt.

Then she turned the key again.

The started chugged once, twice… then the engine caught and _roared_. Lily gave it some throttle and the garage reverberated with the bellow of a mighty V8 engine. Harry actually jumped as the engine fired, and though she couldn't hear him Lily could see him whooping with glee as she rev'ed the engine, letting the sound blot out everything with the unique engine note that came only from a Triumph V8. Releasing the throttle Lily allowed the engine to settle down into the idling burble that she remembered so well. Swiftly she shifted the gear lever, taking the Stag out of Park. The 'Clunk' of the gears changing sounded loudly within the garage. Harry looked at her in concern, but she just waved him to one side, smiling. Once Harry was out of the way Lily eased off the brake, allowing the engine's tick over to draw the car outside.

Harry watched with awe as the nearly fifteen feet of car emerged into the sunlight, the gravel crunching under the large tires. Bringing it to a halt, Lily smiled at him happily. "Let's take a drive."

Eagerly Harry climbed in, feeling the weight of the door as he pulled it open. As he belted in, Lily glanced towards the manor to see that a number of the others had come out, likely to investigate the noise. She saw Victor smiling and nodding in approval, while nearly all the witches were on the verge of drooling. Somehow, the Triumph Stag had always had a strong appeal to women.

"So what did Dad do with this?" Harry asked excitedly, all his previous troubles banished.

Lily just grinned as she slotted the car into gear once more, one hand running over the central portion of the steering wheel. One of the minor things James had done was replace the Stag emblem in the centre of the wheel with an image of his own Animagus form, perfectly detailed in silver. It looked just like Harry's patronus. "I'll tell you in a bit. For now, lets just enjoy the drive."

With that, she goosed the throttle and released the brake, allowing the car to power away.

Harry was grinning as his mum threaded the big car up the long drive to the main road, but when she turned onto the road and _really _let the classic go, he started whooping with pleasure as the engine roared and the needles climbed. Beside him Lily smiled happily as she reconnected with something James had done for her… and was able to share it with Harry. They still had much to talk about, but for now, they could just share the experience.

* * *

Abraxis Davies stepped through into the main room of the Leaky Cauldron, his two children behind. He'd been very surprised by the missive from the Black Family, enquiring about his daughter's suitability as a match for the next Lord of the Family. It had certainly been a much more polite proposal of a marriage contract than he'd received from _any_ other family. But the real shock came when he reached the name that was signed across the bottom of the letter: Harry James Potter-Black. Just _how_ had the Boy-Who-Lived, whose family was one of the lightest around, become the heir to one of the darkest? And what about Sirius Black? The man had been responsible for the death of the boys' parents. So how the hell did Harry become the heir?

Behind him Tracy walked nervously, though she was jumping for joy on the inside. Daphne had come through for her! Here was her chance to escape Nott! The sleazy scumbag had been eyeing her for the last couple of years, undressing her with his eyes. Tracy had made sure she had not been left alone in any room with him, as well as ensuring that he could see her hand on her wand at all times around him. Being betrothed would give her protection against his advances, as the consequences for interfering with a betrothal were hefty, up to and including time in Azkaban for the worst cases. Not even Nott was that stupid. Crabbe and Goyle… well maybe.

Roger Davies looked between his father and half-sister as they walked, trying to understand everything that had happened in the last couple of days. Since that meeting between them Tracy had gone phases of sulking, anger and desperation. Now she was almost giddy. Just what was happening here? The Nott's had put in a good offer, his father should have snapped it up right away. It was how he acted at work, hard-nosed, ruthless, decisive. Roger admired his father in almost every way. There was no wavering or indecision with Abraxis Davis. He went after his goals with a single-minded determination that put some bulls to shame. He'd worked hard to put a roof over their heads, food on the table, and give them both the education that had been denied him. Even at home his word was law. No backchat was tolerated. Oh he was harsh, cold even, but he had always been fair and consistent.

And yet… he'd wavered with Tracy. Roger had always found his half-sister to be something of an insult. A reminder of his father's dalliance with another woman after his mothers' death. Roger only vaguely remembered her, but he had not been happy with his father falling for the muggleborn woman who'd swept in during his grief. Then for her to leave, saddling them with a child that was not really wanted by either male in the Davis family. Roger Admired his father for coping, for not allowing himself to fall for another, but deep in his heart were he would never even admit it to himself Roger sometimes wished that he had put the child up for adoption, leaving him free to devote all his attention onto Roger.

The three stopped as a young purple-haired woman in Auror robes stepped in front of them. "Mr Davies? I'm Auror Tonks. Thank you for coming." The three frowned in confusion, before they noticed the emblem of the Black Family on the woman's robes. Roger's frown deepened, but Abraxis nodded in understand, realising the significance of the emblem. "Mister Potter-Black is awaiting. If you would follow me?"

Tonks led the three towards the rear of the famous pub, towards the private rooms that could be rented out for parties and such. They were often also used as neutral ground between families wishing to come to a deal. Taking a chance, Tracy quickened her step to walk besides the young Auror, who didn't look that much older than herself. "Auror Tonks… uh, why do you have the Black crest on your robes?"

"Tracy…" Abraxis started to warn his daughter, but the young Auror waved her hand.

"It's alright, Mister Davies." Tonks turned to look back at the younger witch. "My mother was a Black, which means I'm part of the family, though a minor branch. Harry's a distant cousin."

Tracy smiled a little, seeing a spark of joy in the older woman's eyes. But before anything else could be said they reached the room reserved.

Abraxis strode in after the Auror, his eyes taking in everything almost instantly. The room was composed of two spaces, an informal sitting area to the left while the right was bisected by a table. Three chairs were set on their side, while on the other three people sat. Not surprisingly Harry Potter was sat in the middle, while on his right was Andromeda Tonks, the noted lawyer. Abraxis remembered that she had been a Black herself. The other witch was a surprise though. Daphne Greengrass had no connection to Harry, so why was she here?

"Mr Davies, welcome and thank you for coming." Harry said as he rose, holding out his hand. Abraxis looked closely at the young man before taking his hand in his own roughened one.

"My pleasure. I assume you know my children?"

"Only in passing I'm afraid. Events in my life have kind of dominated my attention so far."

"Understandable. Before we begin, I have to ask. I understand why Madam Tonks is here, for both legal and family reasons. But may I ask why you have Miss Greengrass with you?"

Harry actually smiled as he held out his hand, into which Daphne placed hers with a small smile. "Daphne has graciously agreed, and her family have consented, to become my Consort." Roger gasped, while Tracy grinned at her friend. She'd found her hero at last! "I intend for her to consort to the Black family, assuming that the future Lady Black has no objections…" Harry was looking directly at Tracy at this point, who found her cheeks flushing as she bowed her head. Lady Tracy Black… it had a nice ring to it.

Abraxis coughed. "Well, it remains to be seen if Tracy will fill that role." Quickly they were all seated, except for Tonks who stood beside the door. "Shall we begin?"

"Very well." Harry took a deep breath. "First, I want to make a few things clear. I was raised in the muggle world, in which this sort of meeting has not been used in the last hundred years. I find the idea of trading for a wife like she was some kind of prize cow demeaning, to both the witch and the wizards involved." Tracy stared at the boy with wide eyes. He honestly believed that! Harry continued before any of them could interject. "However… I do understand it is the custom in the Magical World, so I will follow it. I hope we can come to an agreement that satisfies not only us both, but also Tracy herself. She deserves as much input into this as we do." Harry looked at her again, smiling a little before facing her father once more.

Abraxis Davies, for his part, was both stunned and warmed at Mister Potter's - Harry's – care for his daughter's happiness. He knew they hadn't spoken much, given their different Houses at Hogwarts. For him to show this much compassion for someone he only vaguely knew… it spoke reams about his character. Of course, people like him tended not to do well in the business that Abraxis was in, but finding such a person helped restore some hope for humanity in his worn, old heart. He knew, deep down, that he had failed his daughter. He knew that his pain and anger at her mother had brushed off onto the blameless little girl. He'd hoped so much to find her a good match at Hogwarts… but things had not gone as he'd hoped. Her being sorted into Slytherin had closed many doors to them. While he was pleased that it hinted she had the true traits of her house – ambition – he had also despaired, as the former Slytherins tended to move in their own circle, only rarely mixing with other former students. And only the exceptional married another graduate from another house.

Leaning back slowly, he looked thoughtfully at the younger man. "What do you offer for her?"

Harry took a deep breath. "As Lady Black, she would have direct control over the family legacy and funds. While all major decisions and directions would have to be agreed with me, I'm prepared to allow her a large degree of latitude, to make the House of Black a truly noble house once more." Harry noticed how Tracy's eyes flashed at the thought, and her smile widened. It was clear that she found the thought exciting.

"We would also consider your family friends, with preferred status in regards to any trade deals. You would be our first call for anything we need. This would also apply to the Potter Family, and maybe in time, if the service is exceptional, to the Bones and Greengrass families."

Abraxis felt his heart beating faster. This would be a goldmine if it panned out!

"I'm also going to charter the goblins ward your property of choice to a level high enough to withstand almost any attack by those arrayed against me. At the least you would have time to escape to a suitable safe house." Harry paused, an expression that could have been classed as a grimace flickering across his face. "We are also tending an initial bride price of five thousand galleons."

Roger gulped audibly, and Abraxis thought his heart had stopped. "Cou… could you repeat that last bit?"

Harry signed. "Five thousand Galleons, payable on the wedding day." He paused, his expression turning alarmed. "Is that too little?"

"Too little… too little he says…" Abraxis couldn't help but start to laugh, his humour helping him to over come the shock. Both his children were looking at him in surprise. They had _never _heard him laugh like this!

After a minute Abraxis managed to regain his composure to reply to Harry's question. "Mister Potter… that figure is _more than_ _three times _what the Nott's have offered!"

"Oh." Harry said quietly, clearly a little surprised. After a moment he looked at Tracy. "Well, Tracy? Do you have anything to add?"

Tracy was still in shock, but managed to pull her brain back into gear. "I can do what I like with House Black?"

"Within reason." Harry's smile lessened the implied limit. "I will admit it will be an uphill battle. The Black family has fallen deep into disgrace, their London mansion is now a fifthly hovel. I know, since I spent half of last summer there. It won't be easy…"

"I'm in." Tracy cut in, grinning devilishly. "I like a challenge. The hat nearly put me in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, you know."

Harry chuckled. "That same hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I told it 'no'." At her stunned and confused look, he elaborated. "I'd already met Malfoy…" Her face took on an expression of disgust. "…and all those I'd talked too only said bad things about Slytherin House. In any case…" He looked at her father again. "…what say you Mister Davies?"

Abraxis shook his head, smiling lightly. "I'd never live with myself if I let this chance pass me by. We are agreed." He reached over the table once more, offering his hand. As Harry shook it, Abraxis said softly. "I'd given up hope that Hogwarts would answer my prayers. Thank you Mister Potter, for making everything I've done worth it."

* * *

**A/N:** There we go. I hope that satisfied your thirsts for vengence. Of course, this is just the start of the Dursleys suffering...


	34. Coming out of the Shadows

**A/N: **Well, here we are again. Barely. This is the second chapter that was only finished last night. Still, it's here.

But before we start, a response to a number of reviews. Several have critised the Way I've done Fleur's accent. Well, I'm sorry, but I feel that her accent is as much a part of her character as her looks or ancestory. She will improve her english over the course of this story, but the odd bit will still slip in. I had a native french speaker look over what I've done in earlier chapters, so it can't be that wrong. Once the story is complete I'll go over her speech again, even it out...

For now, lets' get back to the story. Oh, and for those you wanting more smut, we've got a Harry/Hermione scene here...

UPDATE 5th June: Yet another chapter that needed to be trimmed to escape the Mod's axe...

* * *

Dumbledore frowned in thought and worry as he sat back in his seat, his gaze moving from the unfolded letter in his hands to the owl that had delivered it. Hedwig was perched on Fawkes stand next to the Phoenix, and both avians were looking at him as if _daring _him to try and cast a spell on her. Again. He'd been shocked when the snowy owl had entered through the window, which had stopped him from acting before she'd released the letter. He'd reached for his wand, reflexively intending to cast a tracking charm on the snowy owl, but she'd jumped up and flown to his familiar. Fawkes had squawked loudly before shielding the owl from him with a wing, eyes looking at him sharply. Dumbledore got a strong sense of disappointment over the bond he shared with the phoenix, which had stayed his hand.

Turning back he re-read the letter.

'_Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_I think we can safely agree there are several issues that remain between us. Your handling of affairs of Hgowarts over the last few years, the Dursley's and how you had me isolated last year spring to mind. However, I am willing to hold off a reckoning between us over these issues, for now, in favour of us both focusing on a more important issue. Voldemort. I sincerely hope that in regard to him we both want the same thing, him defeated and gone for good._

_As part of this, we need to discuss Headquarters. You know and I know that thanks to Sirius I own the house now. I also suspect you know what it means for me to be the heir to two Ancient and Noble houses. As you may have gathered from our last face-to-face meeting, I now have several close associates around me, all of whom will require the knowledge of the secret. It would hardly do for the future Lady Black to be unable to see her own house!_

_What I require from you as of this moment is another note, revealing the secret of Headquarters. And only this. It will be checked for any compulsion charms and the like before I even see it._

_Provide this Headmaster, and you will have earned yourself a reprieve. Those around me are far less forgiving than me regarding my treatment._

_Understand this Albus. You have lost all my trust and respect for you personally. That said, I hope we can work together to deal with Voldemort, but remember I nor those around me will be your puppets. Once we have dealt with the Dark Lord, then we will settle things between us. Your actions between now and then will determine how my family treat you at that time._

_Lord-Elect Harry Potter'_

Sitting back in his seat, Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily. How had things fallen to this? If he was honest with himself he knew the answer. He just didn't want to admit it.

A knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Focusing a little, he looked beyond… "Come in Severus."

Severus Snape stalked in, his robe billowing behind his as he did. If it wasn't for the dark scowl he wore constantly, the image he created would have been inspiring. Instead it was foreboding.

"Ah, so you have something new to report Severus?" Albus tipped his head forward enough to look the younger man over the rim of his glasses. It was a minor movement, but Albus Dumbledore was a student of human body language, an art that had faded out in the last century in his opinion. The tiniest gesture or motion could be used to convey all sorts of impressions and ideas to a receptive mind. It was even possible to have a verbal conversation with someone, and yet have a completely separate one with them using only body motions and expressions. He had found that certain poses triggered feelings of security and comfort in the younger minds, making them feel more at ease, and thus more willing to give him information, and to be receptive to his ideas.

Snape started to open his mouth, when motion to his right caught his eye. Dark eyes snapped across, and his expression turned even darker, uglier. Hedwig glared back at the potions professor, still shielded by Fawkes, who was also glaring at him. The enmity between the Phoenix and Snape had been going on as long as the two had known each other, though for the life of him Dumbledore could not figure out why the two hated each other like they did. There were only a few beings in the world that provoked a stronger reaction out of Snape: James Potter, Sirius Black, Voldemort… and sadly, Harry Potter.

What Dumbledore _didn't _know was that there was another name on that list. Albus Dumbledore.

"Prince Potter pleading to be allowed to play again?" He sneered disdainfully.

"Hardly, Severus." Dumbledore calmly replied. "He asked for a minor thing from me, one I have no intention, or right, to refuse." Dumbledore sighed wearily again. "I've failed him Severus."

"Failed?" Snape barked incredulously. "That brat is pampered in every way possible! Just as arrogant and insufferable a his father…"

"Severus, enough." Dumbledore firmly cut him off, his eyes now firm as he looked sternly at Snape. "I've told you time and again to let go of your grudge. To judge Harry on his own merits, if judge him you must. This hatred you carry for a man dead fifteen years will be the death of you one day. Life is too precious to spend it honing hatred and anger."

Snape's eyes narrowed, his face flushed, but he kept quiet. _"Sanctimonious bastard!' _he thought. _'What right have you to decree what I must and must not feel? Old fool!'_

"Now…" Dumbledore relaxed. "…What of Voldemort?"

Snape shivered before answering. "He was… not at all pleased after the Draco brat returned from the will reading. Draco would have died then and there for his failure to bring to him the wealth of the Black Family."

"Ah." Dumbledore's shoulders slumped in despair. "I suspected he was counting on gaining those funds, but to simply kill…" he paused before looking at Snape closely. " 'would' have died?"

"His new ally, Bearson Greengrass, suggested a more fitting, more humiliating punishment. One just as fatal, but not as quick or painless." At the raised eyebrow, Snape explained. "Bearson is a former member of Grindelwald's Magi-SS."

Ablus blanched, feeling like his stomach had the bottom dropped out of it. He vaguely knew that if he'd been standing then, he'd have fallen into his chair. _'Gellert…'_ He swallowed nervously, trying to force back down the horrible images he'd seen during the war with his former lover. The Magi-SS had tormented his dreams ever since. He refocused his eyes, now tingling with tears, on Snape. "He has men with him?"

Snape nodded. "A dozen right now, but more are coming. And he claims to be bringing heavier arms with them."

Dumbledore shivered visibly. _'This is… unwelcome.'_ He glanced once more at Harry's letter, still lying on his desk. _'Harry is right: Voldemort _has_ to be the primary concern. All else, all other concerns, have to be set aside…'_ After a couple of deep breaths he looked up once more. "How is young mister Malfoy?"

Snape's sneer reached a new high. "Alive, barely. He'll recover in time though. Bearson shot him with a bullet engraved with magical suppression runes." Snape shivered. "Never have I had to do something so disgusting as having to dig it out of Malfoy's belly by hand…"

Dumbledore frowned lightly at Snape's choice of words. He knew, better than most, just what the younger man had done in the years preceding Voldemort's downfall…

"I see. Has the experience helped him realise where his current path will take him?"

"No." Snape snorted. "He's not been awake much, but already he's determined to not fail the Dark Lord again."

"Oh dear. Severus, do try and get through to him. Make him understand that he can be forgiven, if he just asks for it."

Snape stared at the old man, his bewilderment only just hidden behind his mask of expressionless. _'Are you really that naïve, or just plain stupid? Either case, you're a delusional fool if you think the Malfoy brat's going to change his ways now! That worm Lucius has poisoned his mind since he was able to crawl! Nothing short of wiping his entire life away will fix that!'_ His eyes narrowed in calculation as he watched Albus reaching for parchment and quill. _'If I could arrange for you to die along with that monster Voldemort, I would!'_

"Severus… I will be calling an order meeting for Thursday evening. We have to decide on a direction for the Order to take now, since the Ministry now admits to Voldemort's return." Albus paused, considering, before sighing. "I must also plead for our continued use of Grimmuald Place. At least now we know to whom it belongs now."

"You mean to beg a favour off that snot-nosed Potter brat?" Snape thundered. "Just order that dunderhead to hand over the deed to you! You don't even have to ask him! As magical guardian…"

"But…" Albus held up one hand, palm facing Snape. "…I am not his guardian. I never was."

Snape blinked. "What?"

Dumbledore sighed again before standing up and moving to a window to look outside. "Sirius Black was never convicted of a crime Serverus. His legal authority over Harry was never challenged or revoked. I… I assumed it had, but never actually checked or enquired. Now though, another has returned from the dead…" He paused for a long moment, weighing his options. Did he tell Snape about Lily? While he still personally held some doubts about the method, there was no doubt now that it was Lily Potter. The goblins could not be fooled in such matters. It really was her. And _that_ was the crux of the matter. It had been for Lily that Snape had become Albus's spy in the Death Eater ranks. It had been to keep her safe, once he understood what Voldemort had intended to do, that had pushed him to switch allegiance. And it had been revenge for her apparent death that had kept Severus loyal to him when Voldemort had returned. Albus knew that Voldemort was the one Snape hated most… for killing Lily. But now she was back… and it was clear that she did _not_ return Severus' feelings in kind. Her words at the will reading made it crystal clear that he was more likely to be greeted with a curse than a kiss should the two ever meet. But that meeting was a forgone conclusion…

"Severus… Lily is still alive."

Snape was glad that the Headmaster was looking the other way. It kept the paling of his face private. "What? How?" He asked, his voice weak and wavering.

"I wish I knew the means my friend. But the Goblins have confirmed that it really is her. She's alive, Severus, and not even aged a day since… well, that day."

Severus was swaying on his feet, his mind struggling to understand what he'd been just told. It was not possible! How could she be alive once more? Why had she not contacted him? Then a thought struck him. If she had survived… "What of Potter?"

"If you are referring to James, then I'm afraid that it is confirmed that he did die that night."

"Hmph. At least he did something right…" Snape muttered quietly to himself. But not quietly enough.

"Severus!" Albus whirled round to face him, a stern glare on his face. "Do not besmirch the memory of a brave man! Your hatred of James has gone too far! I will not hear of you slandering his name again, are we clear?" The air around the aging headmaster charged with power, creating an aura that pulled at his robes and hairs, ruffling pages of open books and causing candle flames to flicker and wave.

Snape glared back for a moment, before slowly nodding. As Albus relaxed the aura around him faded.

"Now… be sure to make your excuses to Voldemort." Dumbledore said in a conversational tone as he retook his seat. "I suspect the meeting will take some time. I hope, for you sake, that you will be able to bring something to offer."

Snape nodded furiously before stalking out, almost slamming the door open as he did. Albus watched him go sadly, before picking up his quill and starting to write. He had to start over three times before he was satisfied. He'd found himself slipping into the controlling grandfatherly phrases again and again, something he was trying to curb. He had his wand in his hand, a variant compulsion charm in his mind, when a warbling from Fawkes made him pause. Looking across, he saw the Phoenix glaring at him once more in disapproval. Breathing slowly, Dumbledore laid the wand down before slowly folding the letter with it's contained note. Holding it up, he watched as Hedwig looked at him for a long moment, before she launched herself into the air, snatching the parchment out of his grasp before flying off into the early morning light. Only when he felt the wards report her crossing them did he allow himself to relax and pick up his wand again. _'I have to break that habit… it will be the end of me if I don't.'_

* * *

Far to the south of where the Headmaster was contemplating his life, Harry was taking the luxury of waking up slowly. It still felt odd waking up in this huge bed, but the sheer level of comfort overrode any discomfort he might have felt. The soft pillows seemed to almost have a siren's call for his head, and the quilt was perfect for wrapping around ones self and snuggling. He'd been sleeping soundly and peacefully ever since he'd arrived here, even more so than he'd done so at the Grangers. He felt truly at home here. Hogwarts had felt like home when he first got there, but in comparison to the Dursleys, anywhere would have. But over the years Hogwarts had lost it's lustre, as year after year his life had been in danger from one source or another. But here, in Potter Manor, he felt truly safe and secure. The land seemed to call out to him, welcoming him. Echoes of the previous Potters still haunted the manor, but all of them were reassuring, welcoming and accepting. He felt a real sense of _belonging_, the first he'd ever felt. And though it was only faint, there was a feeling that a truly powerful guardian was protecting him. Obvious really, with an actual dragon's soul tied to the wards, but the sense of its protective embrace had to be felt to be understood.

The warm, soft body snuggled into his was just the icing on the cake.

Harry opened his eyes, to once more gaze upon a vision of beauty in his eyes; Hermione sleeping. When he'd first woken he'd frozen at the presence, before a quick peek had revealed whom it was. Reassured, he'd dozed off once more. He trusted Hermione more than he trusted himself. She of the terrifying intellect had always stood by him, never doubted him. Every time he'd turned around she'd been there, encouraging and supporting him. Those weeks in second year when she'd been petrified had caused him to feel incredible heartache and loneliness, though he'd not understood the root of his feelings at the time. He'd missed her, her presence, her logic, but it had been more than that. How much more, he'd not realised till only recently.

Harry smiled as she shifted a little, snuggling a little more into the pillow, a small smile on her lips. Her face was relaxed in sleep, allow her classical beauty to shine forth unhindered. He loved the way her hair was spread over the pillow and across her shoulders, as wild and untameable as she was. And he would not have her any other way.

Gently he reached up and brushed a strand of the silky threads away from her face, his fingertips just caressing her temple as he did. Her smile widened some more as her eyelids opened slowly, revealing her wonderful chocolate and hazel eyes. "Morning Harry." She said softly, warmth and affection clear in her tone.

"Morning. Didn't mean to wake you."

"I've been awake for a few minutes Harry." Hermione's smile widened a little more. One hand came up from under the covers to stroke his cheek. "This feels so right, doesn't it?"

Harry nodded. "I know. I've never felt so… at home, before." His face fell a little. "I just wish I'd seen what you meet to me earlier…"

"Harry." Hermione gently stopped him with a finger to his lips. "I understand why you didn't. Those… people, are wholly responsible for that. It's no mark against you for what they did. Did it frustrate me at times? Yes. But I do understand."

Harry sighed. "It's just… I wonder what would have happened had Malfoy not cursed me sometimes." He frowned lightly as he got his thoughts into order. "We'd never have had that… that…"

"Orgy?"

Harry flushed. "Yes, that. I'd have been shipped back to Durskaban, to await my next release." He felt Hermione's arms tighten around him at his mention of his now arrested relatives. "We both know what Molly was planning for us. I fear… if things had gone as normal… I'd be lusting after Ginny by now… and that's disturbing, since she does resemble mum quite a bit."

Hermione thought for a moment, then blanched as she saw what he meant.

"But I also fear you'd have started to fancy Ron. I know." He nodded at her incredulous expression. "Seems crazy, but with those potions she's been known to make…" He sighed again.

"Hermione… I can easily see what I would do then. Knowing how Ron fancied you, and you appearing to return the feelings, I'd label my feelings for you as that of a brother for his sister, and not what we've got now."

Hermione shivered. "That would have been torture for me Harry. Loving you, but knowing you didn't feel the same way… I can always read you Harry." She gently chided him. "I'm not sure I could have stayed as close to you in that situation. The conflict within would have been…"

Harry gripped her shoulder a little tighter. "I'd have died if you'd left Hermione. Literally. Without you…"

"Well, we'll never have to find out now." She reassured him. A mischievous quirk then appeared on her lips, and she leaned in quickly to replace her finger with her lips. The kiss was soft and sweat, a meeting of equals deeply attached to each other. Harry felt the full softness of her lips, her passion and care for him. With equal care and tenderness he slid his hand from where it had been resting on her hip up her flank to slide over her shoulder blade, gently drawing her a little closer. The two of them revealed in their complete harmony together.

When she drew back a touch Harry could see there was a mischievous glint in her eyes now. "Still think I'm more like a sister?" She teased lightly. "In the end, I think things turned out the best they could."

Harry grinned happily. "I know. Having mum back… It's a dream come true."

Hermione laughed gaily. "Oh Harry! I was referring to the others. Your other wives."

"Oh!" Harry flushed. "I guess that's a… bonus. I mean…" He sighed. "I still don't understand how you can all be so happy about sharing me…"

"Leave that issue to us Harry." Hermione said softly. "You just focus on being the wonderful man you are, and we'll handle everything else." Hermione smiled once more to cover her own disquiet at that topic. She knew that Harry had hit the topic on the head: _why_ was she so willing to share the man she'd been in love – consciously, at least – with for just over two years? All her upbringing and education had been slanted towards the idea of one man, one woman. Not one and five. She'd talked with the others about this very thing a few times, but all were in the same boat. To an extent Susan, Daphne and Fleur had been aware of the likelihood of this situation occurring, and did not have the same upbringing that frowned on it. All had hoped to find one man and not have to share, but each had been resigned to the possibility. Tracy was more like herself in a way. Without the pressure that the others had to carry on their family lines, she'd had chance to not be in the situation she was in right now.

"I just… worry that I'll not be able to keep you all satisfied. That I'll favour one over the others…" The look in his eyes told her that he really meant her. While it thrilled Hermione's heart to realise just how much he cared for her, she knew that what he feared would not, could not, happen.

"Just be yourself Harry." Another female voice said gently before she could say the same thing. "You've got more room in your heart than any two others."

Both teens looked towards the foot of the bed, where they saw Lily sat on the edge, her back resting against one of the posts. Her hands were laid in her lap as she smiled broadly at the two of them. She'd come in a few minutes before, and had been struck at how wonderful an image the couple made. Not wanting to disturb them she'd sat on the end of the bed, continuing to watch them sleep and embedding the image into her memory. Her only regret was that James wasn't here to witness their son all grown up.

Harry flushed lightly before bringing his hand off Hermione's shoulder to run it through his hair, making it even more unruly than ever, if that was possible. "Morning mum." He looked nervously at her. "How long…?"

"Long enough." She answered his unfinished question. With an easy elegant grace she stood up. "I came in to remind you both that you've got your first summer class later. You'll need to greet and allow entry for all your friends."

Harry sighed but nodded. The wards on Potter Manor were very selective. Only those with express permission from a Potter – or their spouse – could apparate into the grounds or floo in. Even then they could not appear within the building itself, but outside in the courtyard. And while it didn't look it at first glance, the front door was massively reinforced, by both magical and muggle means. Even using the Floo was not a viable option to invade. While they would appear in the Grand Hall, an invading army could only enter one at a time, and the fireplace surround had many concealed means to deal with invaders before they could get orientated… should they get past the barriers and wards in the first place. Even then, the stairs leading to the private wing had built in fortifications that would seriously hinder any attack.

Lily smiled as she gently finger combed Harry's a little, a futile effort to make it a bit ordered. Harry smiled too: his mums' touch soothed him to his core. "You've got some time though, so no need to rush."

"Thanks mum. We'll be down soon."

Feeling that same warm glow fill her at his address, Lily beamed as she looked across her son to Hermione. "Oh, and while I would have been delighted to have you as a daughter Hermione… It's a much greater honour for you to be my daughter_-in-law_."

Hermione blushed even as she smiled bashfully, bowing her head slightly. Lily winked at her before walking out, gently closing the door behind her.

Harry smiled when he turned back to look at her. "Well, that's us told."

Hermione giggled softly before looking over to the far wall. One of Harry's ancestors had had the bright idea of taking a full sized regular clock and charming the face to glow softly, allowing the time to be read in the dark long before the first digital clocks were produced. "We've got time…"

"Huh? Time for what?" His only reply was a saucy smile… and a leg sliding up between his own. "Oh!" Harry's eyes widened when her thigh gently brushed his engorged manhood, which stiffened to full hardness at the touch.

"Lie back and relax Harry." Hermione cooed as she shifted, her bodying moving down his. "Let me, your not-sister take care of that…"

* * *

The sound of a door opening caused Amelia's head to jerk up to meet the gaze of the dress uniformed female officer. "Colonel Bones will see you now."

Rising to her feet, Amelia tried to still her heart as she followed the younger woman. She hoped her beloved – and sole remaining – brother had found at least a few matches in his search. She remembered the talk they had had earlier in the week over the phone, his surprise at her request. He'd said he'd see what he could do. Personal records were a touchy subject; he had to have an at least half decent reason to go poking through them. It had been late last night when she'd got the owl requesting they meet in person at the base, to go over her request.

Stepping past a pair of desks, they entered an office behind them. "Madam Bones Colonel."

Behind his desk her brother William looked up, eyes fixed on her. "Thank you Lieutenant. Dismissed."

"Sir." The young woman turned and walked out, closing the door behind her. Leaving the siblings alone.

The silence dragged on. Amelia found her eyes wandering slightly, taking in the details. Her brother was three years younger than herself, and had always resented his squib status… and how he'd been looked down on by other magicals. It had been only a week after she returned from Hogwarts the last time that he'd snapped and left, furiously storming out of their ancestral home in defiance of fathers wishes. Amelia had witnessed first hand his conflicted rage when they had heard that Bill had joined the British muggle Army. On the one hand he was joining an honourable profession, sworn to defend his homeland… something the Bones had been doing for centuries. But the means… While their father had not been a blood purist in the strictest sense, he had been a passive believer that the two worlds should not mix.

Now though, Amelia could see the story of her brother's life, displayed on the wall behind him. Muggle photos of bands of men, in ranks of neatly pressed uniforms or groups of battle worn soldiers, charted his progress through the ranks, through one conflict after another. Despite the odds he'd stayed whole in body while others around him had fallen or died.

Refocusing her eyes on her brother, Amelia saw that he was assessing her as frankly as she was him. They had kept in touch, but had rarely actually met: too many demands on both their times. They shared the same jaw line, the same shade of hair. It was impossible to not think they were related.

After a moment he stood up and walked around the desk, arms opening. In his movements she could see that he was still active and fit despite the years. But all that was swept aside as they enfolded each other in a hug, the pair of them dropping the barriers that they habitually carried.

"Sis."

"Bill."

After a moment the pair separated, and Bill guided her towards a set of informal seats to one side of his office. An old fashioned decanter stood on one small table, along with a teapot. Once they were settled with teacups in hand – the beverage fortified with the whisky, just as their mother had done – William Bones smiled at her. "You've aged well Am. The monocle's a nice touch."

"Why thanks Bill." Amelia replied with a touch of sarcasm, washed over with humour. "I see you've not gone to pot like some others."

"Never know when an old war dog like me might be needed again." He chuckled before taking a sip. Amelia copied his action, the blending of drinks prompting a fond smile from her.

"Just like Mother used to make."

"Yes. My staff could never get it right."

"I know the feeling."

William frowned lightly at her tone. "Thing's aren't going well for you, are they?"

Amelia sighed before setting the cup and saucer down. "No. I'm… I'm tired Bill. Tired of the corruption and bribery. Tired of fighting the same battles again and again. I… I just can't do what needs to be done."

"I thought you made department head? That's got to count for something…"

"Bill, you know what the old guard were like. They've not improved since you left." Her brother scowled at the memory, before looking at her suspiciously.

"So… your request – which was most irregular I must point out – is not a formal, legally approved one, is it?"

Amelia paused for a moment, arranging her thoughts. "No. No it's not. The Ministry's got its collective head in the sand, too mired in internal politics and image to actually do what needs to be done. And we're running out of time."

"So he's really back?"

Amelia looked him square in the eyes. "Yes, he is. I saw him myself at the end of June. As did over half the Ministry and the Minister himself. All the attacks of late… I fear it's just the beginning. It's only through luck that his targets were those who, mostly, could defend themselves. But we can't rely on children to fight our war for us."

William nodded slowly, a hard look in his eye. "So… how does your request fit into all this?"

Amelia hesitated, before plunging ahead. "Susan's found a man who will allow her to rebuild our house. I know." She responded to his look of surprise. "I was giving up hope myself." She smiled cheekily now. "It's Harry Potter."

William gasped. "The Harry Potter? Good grief! How did Susie pull that off?" He then frowned. "But what of his own family name?"

"She got in through a friend, who is also a very close friend to Harry, and whom will become the next Lady Potter. They offered Susan a place within the family. Officially she'll be Consort to the Potter family, but in practice I doubt there will be any difference between how he treats either of them. Or the others." At his look, Amelia sighed. "He's now the heir to two lines, plus another two friends have joined the family."

"Five women?" William barked. "Gracious! I don't know whether to envy the boy or feel pity for him."

Amelia smirked, but then her expression fell as she thought about the other bits of news she had to tell him. "However… we have learned that the Dark Lord has gained new allies, from the continent." She looked him in the eye. "A group led by a Wizard who followed Grindelwald."

William stiffened, eyes hardening. "Magi-SS?" At Amelia's nodded, he swore violently. "That just takes the cake! I thought all those monsters were rounded up years ago!"

"Apparently this one is a lot more devious than normal. And has a small army behind him."

William froze, before looking squarely at her. "That's why you came to me, isn't it? These names you gave me… they are the names of muggleborns aren't they? You wanted to find out they had any military relatives."

She nodded slowly. "My aurors are police. They don't have the training to fight a menace like the one coming. Hell, they can barely stand against the Death Eaters. Magi-SS…" She shivered, and had to take a gulp of enriched tea to steady her nerves.

William however was lost in his memories of the history texts he'd read. The Magi-SS, the terrors of the Baltic and Germanic states… No, the magical government in Britain was in no shape to handle such a threat. Taking a deep breath he faced his sister again. "What's the plan of attack then?" He asked.

"I've already talked to my contacts in MI5 and Scotland Yard. They'll be on the look out for both forces. I stressed that they should not go after them themselves, but alert us and follow them. I hope they will stay true to form and disregard the muggles…"

William was shaking his head. "The Eaters will, but don't expect the Magi-SS to do so. They always kept abreast of Muggles, at least in terms of weapons and surveillance."

"Well, at least we have some help. The other thing was that we – the group that has formed around Harry, whose going to be central in any final conflict with the Dark Lord – thought of was to form an army of our own, to fight the Death Eaters and their allies on an equal footing. After an ex-member of 2 Para took out five Death Eaters alone when they attacked his brothers home…"

William nodded slowly. "Yes, I can see what you mean. With no real time to train, already experienced personal are a must." Setting down his cup, William got up and stepped over to his desk. Lifting a folder, he opened it and flicked through, eyes dancing over the pages within. "How did you plan to contact these people Amelia? You know that not all will know about magic."

Amelia nodded. "We know. Professor McGonagall's offered to approach the families of each one on that list, to see which do know. Then…" She shrugged. "…I don't know. You know the system. How can we gather them into a unit?"

"Hmmm…" William rubbed his chin with his free hand. "I could approach Command with some information… possible terrorist group… targeting certain families for reasons unknown…"

Amelia chuckled. "I used the same basic idea with Scotland Yard. An 'Extremist Terrorist Group' describes them perfectly."

William chuckled as well. "Yes, I think I can sort something out. Can't guarantee getting everyone, but if I have a list of names, plus examples of what these people are capable of…"

"I'll forward to you my Seniors Auror's report on the one recent attack of his that succeeded. Well, the main target was out, but the poor girls parents…"

William grimaced. "Yes, well… I'm not sure I really want to know the details. But if it'll get us the green light…" He paused as if struck by a thought, before he faced her. "I'll want to debrief this former 2 Para member you mentioned, and have him work with our new recruits."

"That shouldn't be a problem, depending on how soon you get this force together. He'll be imparting some of his training onto Harry, our niece, and the others around them, preparing them for the next encounter."

"Oh… she'll hate him for that, until that training saves her life. 2 Para really put their recruits through the grinder. The only ones harsher are the 22nd. Those SAS boys are something else."

Amelia shivered, recalling what Daniel Granger had said about his training. She struggled to think how to make it even worse. Rising to her feet, she stepped over to her brother. "Thanks for doing this Bill."

William smiled before wrapping his free arm around her shoulders. "What are family for? Just make sure that bastard stays dead this time."

"Oh, I'm sure that Harry – and more to the point, his wives - will make _very_ sure of that!"

* * *

"You seem rather pleased with yourself today, Hermione. Care to share the cause?"

Hermione looked over towards Alicia, who was looking at her with a small smile at the corners of her mouth. The gathered group were taking a break for lunch after their intense – and tense - morning session. For the most part it had mainly been a refresher and introduction session, as the group that were not staying on the grounds had to be introduced to their teachers… including the 'new' Bellatrix. Many eyes had been on Neville when she had stepped out meekly, but despite the tensing of his jaw he'd not reacted.

Quickly though they'd gone through what they already knew, before Harry had opened the floor to discussion of what they needed to do in the coming weeks and months. Almost right off Fred and George had offered their services as crafters of items and ordnance, something that had intrigued her uncle Daniel. Alicia and Angelina would assist them, but would also do much of the scouting work for the group come September. Once in Hogwarts Harry and the others still to complete their education would be severely limited in their ability to travel. Harry had half joked that it would be much of an issue however, as trouble seemed to be drawn to him. The chuckles that his comment drew out were tentative, as they were all, to one degree or another, aware of his history.

Daniel had thrown several suggestions into the discussion, the main one being that they train together as one or two teams that would fight as a unit. They would also need a few who would try to avoid direct combat, but would be there to keep the others on their feet, patching up injuries and reversing curses. Both Tracy and Hannah volunteered for this role, both preferring not be in the direct line of fire. In the end, they agreed that Harry and his wives would form the point unit, tasked with dealing with Voldemort himself. Neville would lead the rest, to deal with the other Death Eaters.

Now though, they were all taking a break for lunch, sitting outside in the sun. The boys had gathered around the one corner of a paved patio area next to the constructed Caribbean beach, where Harry was making his first effort at cooking a bar-be himself. Remus was next to him assisting as needed, while her father was sat close by, to 'supervise'. Nathan was recovering quickly, but he still tired easily. Slightly to one side Uncle Dan was talking with the twins… the sight of which Hermione tried not to notice, given the diabolical looks the younger pair sported, and the devious expression her uncle had.

The girls had taken over the broad expanse of beach, laying back on the fine sand or sitting on the rocks that were dotted about. A couple of towels and stools completed the seating arrangements. They had all shed their shoes, even loosened their clothing. The combination of the British summer and the heated region made for a decidedly hot space.

Hermione smiled at the older girl. "Not really Alicia. Personal matter."

"Oh, so 'hose noises I 'eard coming from ze master bedroom were from a personal matter?" Fleur teased from where she lay with her toes bathed in the small waves that lapped against the sand. Hermione blushed even as she met the gaze of the older blond, who was smiling devilishly at her, a bright spark of amusement dancing in her pale eyes.

"Fleur! Do you mind?" She hissed.

"Oh 'elax." Fleur waved one hand dimissively. "No one 'ere would… deny, you 'our… pleasure, with our fine young man." Fleur's eyes moved across towards where was speaking with Neville.

"Certainly Fleur. He's certainly not a _lee'tel boy_ any more." Susan commented with a saucy wink at Hermione.

Fleur groaned light-heartedly. "Oh… Will I evar live 'hat down?"

"We'll see Fleur." Daphne said cryptically from where she lay on her back, hands behind her head and feet crossed at the ankles, enjoying the sun. "We'll see." After a few moments though she turned her head a little, a frown creasing her brow. "Tracy…"

"Hmmm?" Her dark haired friend responded distractedly.

"You've been staring at me for the last ten minutes. What's the issue?"

Tracy started, and Hermione frowned lightly herself, casting her eyes over Daphne herself quickly. The former Slytherin was stretched out casually, but Hermione could not see anything amiss with her appearance…

Tracy gulped before speaking, feeling the eyes of every other girl on her. "Um, Daphne? Did you hit herself with a couple of engorgement charms?"

Daphne's frown tightened, and she turned her head to look at her friend, eyes opened to narrow blue slits.

Tracy, blushing beet red, waved her hand towards her. "It's just… you've grown, uh… more top heavy since I last saw you…"

Daphne frowned a moment longer before she looked down her body, instantly seeing what Tracy meant. She'd decided to wear one of her new short-sleeved polo shirts this morning, one with a low cut v-neck. Nothing sluttish or indecent, but low enough for her to feel sexy. From where Tracy was sat, she had a clear view straight down her deepened cleavage. At this realisation Daphne shared a look of embarrassment with Hermione and Susan.

"Oh, I smell a story here!" Angelina crowed excitedly, eyes dancing. "Okay ladies, give!"

The three looked at each, then around at the range of expressions on the others. The former chasers were looking excitedly curious, while Katie had a bemused expression. Fleur had one eyebrow raised above her accepting smile. Luna looked like she didn't have any feelings on the matter, while Ginny… the young redhead was struggling to cover her envy, though her curiosity was clear. Astoria was looking at her sister with wide eyes, clearly a bit envious but also hopeful.

Hermione sighed. "I… we're not sure how or why, but all three of us…" Her hand waved between herself, Susan and Daphne. "Gained an, increase, after we cured Harry of the curse Malfoy put on him."

"Okay…" Katie drawled. "Explain."

"Yes. I'd love to hear how you broke that curse." Tracy cut in. "Malfoy was crowing about it destroying Harry when he woke up afterwards."

Hermione shared another look with the other two. After they both nodded slightly, she started. "We… well. Bluntly… We fucked it out of him."

For several seconds no one spoke.

"Wait. You four had an _orgy_?" Hannah asked in amazement.

Three nods answered.

"Well. That's… different." Alicia said, her eyes glazed over.

Tracy however had wide eyes. "How on Earth did you…?"

"Lots of potions, and we switched him between each other, so we could recover." Susan answered her question. Luna suddenly had a more focused look, her hand stilling from stroking the back of her pet Terror Gobbler as he lay curled into her side in the warm sand.

"Yes, he was… just wow." Hermione sighed. Then she chuckled. "He just kept on going and going…"

"…And coming and coming, I bet…" Angelina snarked light-heartedly.

"Yes. Yes he did." Hermione grinned. "Forty-two times worth, in fact."

It took a moment for it to register, but then Angelina, Katie, and surprisingly Fleur all started laughing. The others looked baffled… except for Luna, who was looking at Hermione with a contemplative expression.

"You three switched him between yourselves?" She asked softly.

"Yes." Hermione answered, curiosity creasing her brow.

"And he took you in three different stances?" Luna pressed.

Hermione nodded, noticing how the others were looking at the youngest blond in confusion. Just where was Luna taking this?

"And each time, he released inside your womanhood? Not a drop wasted elsewhere?"

Daphne was flushed bright red. "Uh, I don't think you really need to know where he shoot his wad each time…"

"Was it?" Luna pressed. At Hermione's reluctant nod, Luna sat back and beamed, her hand resuming the stroking motion of Gobbler. "I always wondered if that ritual was actually valid…"

"Huh? What ritual?" Daphne asked, suddenly worried.

"Hmm? Oh, don't fret. You just acted an old druidic fertility ritual that I saw mentioned in my… parents, small library." Luna's face darkened for a moment, but a croon and a sleepy chirp from Gobbler brightened her face once. "It was a ritual to increased the fertility of all the partners in a household. They needed many children those days. And it was believed a larger bust signified that a woman was more fertile, hence able to bear more children. I wondered if it was just a fairy tale…" Luna mused almost to herself.

Hermione looked between herself, Susan and Daphne, all with wide eyes. Was it possible? But how…

"Foods ready!" Harry's call snapped them all back to the present. Gobbler's head shot up, eyes wide as he stared towards the paved area, where already various salads, sauces and other items were being placed on the large table by Winky and Emily. When a small plate of whole fish appeared the little dragon jumped up and scampered over as fast as his legs could carry him, panting like sounds coming from him.

Luna beamed as she watched him. "And you wondered why I call him Gobbler!"

Hermione sighed. "Well… at least his table manners are better than Ron's."

Ginny blanched. "Urgh. Thanks Hermione. I really didn't need that image again."

"Sorry." Hermione said. Before the younger girl could walk away however Hermione held out her hand, stopping her. Ginny looked at her in confusion and a little fear as the others followed the hungry little dragon. Hermione spoke softly once they were far enough away. "Ginny… How are you coping?"

The younger girls shoulders slumped. "I'm… doing better. It's… hard, to see you and Harry together, like you are. I… still feel…"

"I know Ginny. I understand." Hermione gently laid her hand on her shoulder. "But it'd be worse to brood at the Burrow, you know."

Ginny nodded. "I know. That's why I'm here." Her expression darkened. "Plus I want some payback on that bastard who caused… everything!"

Hermione knew whom she meant. She saw the same fire in Lily's or Harry's eyes often. She shifted to another topic. "How's Ron?" She asked hesitantly.

"Not good. I don't know him anymore Hermione. There's… something going on in his head that I can't understand. Mum's blind to it, but Dad's noticed. It's almost… like something is eating away at his brain… though since I doubt he actually had one…"

Hermione chuckled for a moment with her half-heartedly, but both shared looks of concern as the laughter faded. "Has Mr Weasley got him to a healer yet…"

"No." Ginny shook her head sharply. "He's very reluctant to leave mum alone, since the will… and she's denying that there's anything wrong with Ron. We had a huge fight with her just to let me come here!"

Hermione sighed. They'd tried to understand, work out what had happened to Ron, but not even Lily, who had been training as a Healer, could work what was wrong. Not without examining him herself. Everyone had agreed to keep an eye on him… though Harry had idly aired the idea of ensuring that he ended up in Madam Pomfrey's care at the start of term…

"Well, keep an eye on him for us. I just… get the feeling we'll get more grief from him sooner or later." Hermione sighed. "He could have been…"

Ginny nodded in agreement, tears in her eyes for the young man that Ronald _could_ have been.

* * *

The next afternoon, two figures walked through the Ministry Atrium, forms and features hidden in the hooded robes they were. The few others moving about stepped aside for the pair, their plum coloured robes signifying their membership in the Wizengamot.

Under her hood Lily's eyes danced about, jumping from point to point. "Been a long time since I walked through here…" She said quietly.

Her companion nodded. "Yes. Same for me. Haven't improved the décor at all, have they?"

"No. Still as gloomy and oppressive as ever." Lily's eyes stilled on the shattered fountain in the centre, remembering Harry's experiences with it… and how the statues had protected him during his last confrontation with Voldemort. "Are they actually going to fix that?"

Andromeda Tonks glanced at the wreckage. "Doubt it. Though I worry about what they would replace it with in the current climate."

Lily nodded in resignation as they approached the rear of the hall, were the security desk and lifts were. She tensed as they approached: this was the tricky part of their plan for her re-emergence. If the guard enforced his task properly…

For a moment the paper he was reading dipped, enough for him to look over the robes they wore. Then he lifted the paper once more, ignoring them. Although it was the behaviour they expected, Lily still sighed with a mixture of relief and disappointment as they passed him. She was able to hold in her comments until they were within one of the lifts.

"It's no wonder the Ministry is so badly infiltrated. Just because of the robes we're wearing…"

Andromeda just nodded in reply, feeling that there was nothing more to say on the matter as they waited for the lift to deposit them on the correct level.

Within the Wizengamot chamber Ablus Dumbledore sat behind his lectern with a sense of foreboding. He could not pin down why he felt this way; this was to be a normal session of the Magical World's governing body. He expected Amelia to once again push for her Auror's being granted more freedom to act against the Death Eaters, more funding and the like. And as ever her motion would be defeated, since the Pureblood block tended to vote as one block, and a significant number of them at the least sympathised with the Death Eaters, if not were part of that group. Amelia was well-intentioned, but she was blind to the consequences of her acts. If most of the Death Eaters were lost to Azkaban, or worse death, then there would not be the numbers to maintain the Government. The Muggleborns, idealist, over-active, impatient, would tear the world apart with their ideals and dreams, leaving nothing but anarchy and even worse corruption than there was at present.

No, for the Greater Good of the Magical World, Amelia's requests and plans had to be turned down, despite the ache in Dumbledore's heart. He understood the pain, but he was the only one who saw the whole picture.

He was also expecting another pro-supremacist to table a motion for greater segreation; more power given to the Purebloods and the muggleborns suppressed even more. _That_ Dumbledore would not allow. The Supremacists were just as blind as the muggleborns. They could not understand that if they tried to create _their_ dream world, the muggleborns would rebel, and the whole world would be split into a civil war that would destroy everything. And worse of all, would reveal the magical world to the muggles themselves. That could not be allowed. Dumbledore had lost count of the number of motions or proposals that had been forwarded by the supremacists over the years that he'd helped shatter and destroy; it had been that many. While Dumbledore could understand, and even sympathise with the muggleborns, and agreed their dream was one worth striving for, they were too rash, too impatient. Change had to both gradual and from within, if the magical world was to survive and prosper.

Looking up, he noted that the seats were nearly all filled, that the Minister was taking his seat to the lower left of himself, and that the Scribe, Percy Weasley, was ready and waiting. It was time to start.

Conversations ceased at the sound of the gravel tapping firmly on the block. All eyes turned towards Dumbledore as he sat straighter.

"I call this session of the Wizengamot, the seventh-hundred and thirty-fourth since inception, to order." The only other sound was the scratching of Percy's quill as he took the minutes. "I will now call the roll." Casting his eyes down, he placed his quill by the first name on the list. "Abbot?" At lord Abbot's affirmative, he marked the right space before moving to the next.

It was mid-way through the 'B's that his uneasy feeling from before reared up and began to claw at his spine. Freezing for a fraction of a moment, he cast his eyes further down the list… to the name two rows down. He called the ones preceding that on reflex, barely noting the replies, before his quill moved to hover over the name he'd been staring at. He swallowed nervously before speaking once more. "Black?"

"I stand for the House of Black as it's representative."

Eyes swung round to look at the figure that had answered in a female voice. Beneath his beard Dumbledore winced. He knew that voice…

"Please stand and be recognised madam, and produce your proof of representation."

The figure stood before tossing back the hood of her robe, revealing the features of Andromeda Tonks. "I am Andromeda Tonks nee Black, and I stand in the stead of the Lord-Elect of the House of Black, till such time as he feels ready to take up his place in this body." She held aloft a letter. "My representation papers. You will find them all in order." Her imperious look, which cemented her claim to be of Black blood, dared anyone to try and find fault with the documents. Not that anyone would try. The Tonks were known for being very good at their jobs in the legal services. Nevertheless, Dumbledore followed procedure, and levitated the letter to his desk. Opening it up, he skimmed through the legal language with practiced ease, before focusing on the bottom. There, beside the seal of the Black Family, was the signature of the future Lord Black.

Harry James Potter-Black.

Sighing, Dumbledore passed the letter to Percy, to be entered into the records. "Very well, Andromeda Tonks is recognised as the representative of the House of Black." As he watched her retake her seat Dumbledore felt a chill run up his spine…

One by one the various lords, Ladies or representatives answered the roll, with the exception of those families that had none. It was as he reached the back third of the roll that the real shock of the session struck.

"Potter?"

"I stand for the House of Potter!"

Dumbledore froze as most of the gathered members burst into angry yelling and accusations, his eyes closing in resignation. The Potter seat had been empty for over fifteen years, granting the chair a huge boost to his voting power, as any seat left empty defaulted their votes to the Chief Warlock. The whole system was biased towards the old families: Noble Families got a single vote, while Ancient Families had three. Families that were both however got five votes. Most Noble – of which there were only five left – had four votes each, while Most Ancient were awarded nine. The Potter family, being both Most Ancient _and_ Most Noble, had fifteen votes to their name alone. And that didn't count the families that had died out but had passed their votes to the Potters, or other families.

The Potters thusly had a block of _twenty-four_ votes, more than any two other families in the Wizengamot.

It was little wonder that the Potters were held in such high regard… or desire. With such voting power, the Potters could make or break any piece of legislation brought into session.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Dumbledore rapped the gravel sharply. "Order! Order I say!" He called, the sharp sounds of the gravel bringing many members to heel. As the accusations died, he turned his head to regard the figure that sat silently, still hooded. He knew who was under that hood, but had to speak the proper request. "Stand and be recognised madam, and prove your right to stand for the House of Potter." As the woman stood slowly he cringed beneath his robes, bracing himself for the fallout of _this_ reveal.

As she had down the week before, Lily pushed the hood back, giving her head a little shake to loosen her hair to fall about her shoulders. With her right hand on her hip, she held her left hand aloft, palm facing her, clearly displaying the Ladies ring of the Potter Family. "I am Lily Marie Potter nee Evans, widow to the previous Lord, James Arthur Potter, and mother to the current Lord-Elect, Harry James Potter! I stand in his stead, until such time as he feels ready to join this body!"

For several long minutes silence reigned, as the gathered members struggled to comprehend the sight before them. It was just not possible! The woman that stood before them was dead! She had died fifteen years ago!

At last one managed to shrug off the shock enough to speak. "That's impossible! There is no way you could be Lily Potter! That woman is dead!"

Lily's eyes flashed darkly as she glared back at the one who had spoken. "It was _presumed_ that I died. I confess I very nearly did. But I assure you all, I am who I say I am. The goblins had confirmed my identity by the Blood Identity Ritual." A gasp rose from everyone gathered there. A Blood Identity Ritual was fool proof. Nothing could fool it. It was the basis of all their magic in regard to Gringotts, the cornerstone of their treaty with Wizards. To be tested by the ritual, however… there were only rumours and speculation about how it was done, but the consensus was that it involved a lot of pain. Pain that no one would willing undergo if they could. And it was well known the Goblins response to those trying to trick their way into Gringotts.

With a sigh of resignation, Dumbledore tapped the gravel. "Madam Potter is recognised as the member from the House of Potter." This, he knew, would cause shockwaves throughout their world. Fortunately, they would mostly be positive.


	35. Gathering Strength

**A/N: **New month, new chapter. Hope you enjoy, even if it's a little short...

* * *

When Lily returned from the Ministry, she had gone straight for the kitchen, taking the large mug of tea that Emily had been holding out without a word. It was only a couple minutes later, after Andromeda Tonks had returned herself, that she was able to speak.

"That bunch of dunderhead, inbred fools! People are dying, and they sit on their gold plated crap-pots and drone on about shit just to make themselves feel important!"

It had fallen to Harry to respond. "That good a meeting huh?"

"Well…" Amelia Bones had shrugged. "…we got my bill through. That's what counts."

Lily had snorted. "I'm actually starting to think that we ought to _let_ Voldemort tear that… cesspit, apart. Save us the bother later."

The Tonks, Amelia, Lord Greengrass and Lily had then sat down to go over the meeting in detail; put together the trends, see who was pro-Voldemort, who was willing to take a stand against him and his ideology. There were, so far, depressingly few signs of the latter, and too many of the former. Harry sat with them, saying little but listening. He'd scowled a little when Lily had told him that some day he'd have to take his place in that body, but had heeded her advice and was paying attention.

From her seat off to the side, Hermione was watching him with a light frown on her face as she stroked Crookshanks gently. Watchers of Bond movies would have compared her pose to that of one of Bond's recurring villains, despite the obvious differences.

"What's on your mind Hermione?" Susan asked as she lifted her head from the back of a nearby chair. It was late, and they had all been busy during the day. McGonagall had visited and given all the teens an intense lesson in the practical applications of Transfiguration, with emphasis on its use in battle. Some of her examples had been… disturbing. Before she had left, Lily had thrown in ideas about how to use charms as well. They had spent most the afternoon and early evening practicing their spell work, trying to increase both the speed of casting and the rate. The goal was to reduce or remove the need for the complex wand motions with each spell, and to start casting non-verbally. So far none of them had achieved either.

"Just thinking…" Hermione murmured in response.

"When do you ever stop?" Daphne lightly teased.

Hermione just sighed. "It's just… I'm considering something Harry said yesterday morning."

"Ah…" Fleur drawled. "Was 'zhis before or aftez you 'played'?"

"Before. Not that 'that' matters…" Hermione turned to face the others, her serious expression causing them all to drop any sense of light banter.

"So what is it?" Tracy prompted, not as used to Hermione's ways as the others.

Sighing once more, Hermione decided to air her thoughts. "Harry's worried that he'll favour… well, me… over the rest of you."

"Perfectly natural." Daphne countered. "After all, you've got a history with him that we don't. We can't expect to be at the same level as you two are right away."

"But he's worried… and so am I, for that matter… that if he does favour me with his affections, you'll feel excluded, left out. And that's not fair." Hermione pressed on. "Without that contact, that chance to form your own bonds with him, you'd never reach the same level of… of… intimacy."

The other four considered this point for a moment. "True." Susan replied slowly. "There is so much more to him that what he appears."

"Oui. But 'ermione…" Fleur said softly. "No matter 'ow long it takes, I won't let 'im go." She looked into Hermione's eyes. "My… nature, won't allow him to slip away."

Daphne however was eyeing her carefully. "You've got an idea already, haven't you?"

Hermione blushed lightly. "Am I that obvious?"

"Not always." Susan smirked lightly. "But once one knows the signs…"

"Okay, I can accept that." Hermione breathed deeply. "We all agree that we all need equal time with him, to build our own relationships with him, right?" A round of nods answered her. "And we also need to build ones between ourselves too, correct?" More tentative nods answered, one or two sets of eyes glancing to the others, with several cheeks flushing a little.

"Right. Then I propose that we… take turns, in sharing his bad at night."

"Pardon?" Fleur asked quietly.

"We each spend one night a week with him each." Hermione explained. "During the day, we all show affection and care for him. If something happens, it happens." A blush suffused her face, but she ploughed on. "We also try to be more… intimate, with each other too. But on our nights with him, we each have uninterrupted time with Harry, with no others around."

"And the rest of us?" Tracy queried.

Hermione blushed. "I think we ought to use two of the private bedrooms for ourselves, two per room. Separate beds, for now, but later… maybe… share. If we want to."

They all considered this idea for a couple of minutes, each one looking at it from several angles, but finding no faults with at first look.

"So…" Daphne asked slowly. "How would this system work?"

"Well, say I spent Monday nights with Harry." Hermione started off. "Then, on Tuesday night you share his bed Daphne. Then Susan on Wednesday, Fleur Thursday, and Tracy Friday. As an example."

"What about ze weekend?" Fleur pressed.

"Well, I first thought that either Saturday or Sunday night could be a 'rest' night, where we all sleep separately." Hermione admitted. "Then I thought that it could also be a 'substitute' night. In case one of us, for one reason or another, misses out that week."

"That's one night in the weekend." Susan commented. "What of the other?" One red eyebrow rose questioningly.

"Ah… well…" Hermione's head tipped forwards a bit, her face beet red. "I was thinking… that we spend that night all together."

Silence was her answer for almost a minute.

"Wait. All six of us… in one bed?" Tracy asked in amazement.

"His bed's certainly big enough…" Daphne commented.

Susan chuckled. "Hoping for a weekly orgy Hermione?"

Hermione huffed. "Just say so if you wouldn't consider it."

"Oh, I wasn't saying that…" Susan said, her eyes meeting Fleur's as they both remembered how they had comforted Harry after Voldemort had struck back.

Tracy shifted uncomfortably. "I'm, uh… not sure I'm ready for that…"

Hermione smiled softly. "Don't worry. We'll not force you. I think the first few such nights will mainly be just us sleeping… _just_ sleeping."

"Agreed. And I 'zhink 'zhat az she has not had a chance with him az yet, 'zhe next 'Lady Black' zhould be 'zhe first one, tonight." Fleur said knowingly as she looked at the younger woman. Tracy's eyes widened sharply.

"What?"

"She's got a point Trace." Daphne said gently. "You will have to be intimate with him sooner or later."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." Hermione reassured the dark haired girl. "Harry will be a perfect gentleman."

Tracy looked between the four reassuring expressions around her before nodding nervously. "Okay…"

* * *

In one of the side rooms off the Grand Hall, two men sat back in the plush armchairs, tumblers of whiskey held in hand. Just to one side a large bowl, engraved with a multitude of runes on the side, rested on a low table. A shimmering glow came from within. Both men had looks of shock and horror etched into their faces, though the more muscular one was noticeably more shocked.

"I said it before and I'll say it again." Daniel Granger said softly. "Holy fuck! How the hell is that kid not a basket case by now?"

Remus sighed as he gulped down another shot of the whiskey. "I wish I knew. I know that he's resilient, and that he's gone though challenges and trials, but all that…" He waved his free hand towards the pensieve. "…I had no idea."

Daniel speared the care-worn man with a hard look. "That's something else that really bugs me. What the hell have the staff at that school of yours been doing all this time? Why did it fall to three pre-teens to save such a precious artefact? More to the point, how were those 'traps' supposed to stop a fully trained and experience wizard, when three kids with only a years teaching could breeze right through them? Are the staff idiots or just plain naïve?"

Remus had no ready answer for the former solider. Expressed like that, he had to agree that something was wrong. He frowned in thought. "I can tell you who laid which trap… and apart from Snape's potions riddle – which I hasten to add would have stumped nearly all magicals – and McGonagalls Chess set, those 'traps' were well below par for what the professors standard is. Though that Cerberus…" Remus shivered.

Daniel shivered too. "Yes… the giant three-headed bloodthirsty dog… _that was only kept away from curious students by a locked door and a verbal warning!_ First rule when dealing with kids: Tell them not do something or go somewhere, and most will do it or go there, just to see _why_. How the hell is a _school_ the most secure place in your world?"

Remus winced. Daniel's tone had been cutting and pointed. "I think it's more to do with _whom_ is there. Dumbledore is very well respected, revered even, in the magical world. He's known for being one of the most powerful spell casters, but also one of the wisest. He's rumoured to be the only other wizard Voldemort fears."

Daniel snorted. "Well excuse me, but bollocks to that! That whiskered old fools got his head shoved so far up his arse he can taste his food again right after swallowing it!" He shook his head in disgust. "No wonder your world is so messed up. If _he's_ the head of the premier teaching establishment…" After taking another sip of his whiskey his eyes fell onto the pensieve once more. "I don't like the way he avoided Harry's questions afterwards. Just gave him a metaphorical pat on the head and sent him home. A home…" Daniel speared Remus with another sharp look. "…Where he'd been abused and mistreated his whole life at.

Remus slumped in his seat. "I know. I failed him so much…" The grief and despair hung over him like a cloud.

"You trusted him to do right by Harry." Daniel said as gently as he could, no trace of recrimination in his voice. "You're not at fault for that. Hell, you were one of his best teachers. You gave him the ability to save himself and Hermione from those dementor things…"

A small smile touched Remus' mouth at the memory of teaching Harry the Patronus Charm, but then another memory from that year came forward. "I nearly killed him too. Or worse, turned him. Hermione too…"

"Remus! Enough with the pity party!" Daniel snapped. "You didn't! Yes, you have a monster in you…" Daniels tone softened. "…As do I." When Remus' eyes snapped up to look at him, Daniel nodded slowly. "I was… am a soldier. I've been trained to kill, quickly and efficiently. Drilled to the point where it becomes instinct and reflex. In a combat situation, my training and instinct takes over. I don't, I _can't allow _myself to consider that those I kill are fellow human beings. Make the kill, move on. It's only after the battle that the faces come back." Daniel's eyes were looking off into the distance, clearly remembering a past event.

"One time, I had to take out a sentry for a terrorist camp. He wasn't paying attention, but would have raised the alarm quickly enough. The guy was sat down, weapon resting next to him, as I crawled up behind him. As I looked over his shoulder, I saw that he was looking at a photo. I think it was his family. One woman, pretty. Three kids. The boy was cute. Two adorable looking little girls. They were all smiling for the camera. For a second, I froze.

"Then I cut his throat.

"I'll always remember… the shocked look on his face. The horror as he realised he was about to die. The grief as that photo fell from his fingers. I held him as he died, to ensure he couldn't raise the alarm. I could feel the life fade out of his body Remus." Daniel's eyes flickered shut for a moment before he refocused on the shocked werewolf. It had been a shock, finding out that this softly spoken, care worn man with the manners of a professor was a werewolf. It had taken Daniel a couple of days to reconcile this with the stories of werewolves he'd grown up with.

"I have to live with what I've done for my country Remus. You're fortunate, as you've not actually _done _anything when you change. I know, in detail, what I've done."

"How do you cope?" Remus asked quietly.

Daniel sighed. "By knowing that what I did was for the right reason. That man I spoke of? He was part of an extremist terrorist group. They were planning to enact an attack on London. From what we gathered after assaulting the camp, they were going to board several trains bound for London stations, with bags and cases packed with explosives, take control of them, and crash them full speed into several of London's stations. Kings Cross, Euston, Paddington, Liverpool Street… almost a dozen different stations, each packed with people. The crashes, and the resulting detonations of the explosives they'd brought, would have totally destroyed the stations and killed thousands. Britain's infrastructure would have been ruined. The sentry had not only a timetable for Kings Cross, but a detailed instruction manual for the Intercity high-speed trains that run out of there. He would have been of the suicide drivers, sitting behind the controls as the train crashed into the station at full speed."

Daniel allowed Remus time to imagine the devastation such an attack would have caused. Remus shivered before taking another gulp of whiskey.

"I… see."

Daniel nodded slowly, before moving on. "What concerns me is that despite the horrors that Harry has faced, there's been no real support from any adults in his life. I know… you were driven away for the forth year, and didn't know about his life before now, but I'm referring to the teachers. They are supposed to look after and protect the children in their care! Dumbledore had _fifty_ _years _to figure out something that my niece did in a few _months_! And what did he do after the first spat of attacks? To my eyes, nothing! I can understand not wanting to take on an eighty-foot snake…" Daniel shivered as the image of that monstrous snake appeared in his mind once more. "… But he could have done something to ensure that it would never threaten the pupils again! Instead, it appears it was a case of 'out of sight, out of mind' with him." A frown marred his brow. "In fact, when you boil it down, the only real support Harry's had through the years has been Hermione."

Remus chuckled lightly. "I saw it when I was teaching. Those two were together, even then. They just didn't realise it."

Daniel smiled lightly. "The blindness of youth."

The moment of levity faded, and both men's expressions turned grim. "So what now?" Remus asked quietly.

"Now? We train their bodies, harden their minds." Daniel stated firmly. "Harry's remarkably well adjusted, but I fear he's putting up a front, likely without realising he's doing it. I'd want to have him talk to a shrink, someone who specialises in Post Traumatic Stress. But I doubt there's anyone qualified who knows about the magical world. He's going to need his head screwed on straight when he faces that Voldemort guy again."

Remus cringed slightly at the name, but agreed. "Considering his power and skill, Harry's going to need every advantage we can give him."

Daniel looked back at him. "Honestly? I feel that just having his family around him is what he really needed. A reason to fight. Dumbledore appears to have been moulding him to have reasons to die, and take Voldemort with him. Being willing to lay down one's life for a cause is noble, but it's far better to make the other guy lay down his life for _his _cause. If he's got something to come back to, a life with… Hermione… and the others, then he'll try that bit harder, force himself to keep going. He needs hope."

Remus smiled warmly, the first time he'd done so that evening. "I think that Hermione and the others are already on the case with that…"

* * *

Harry was just about to remove his glasses that night when there was a tentative knock on the bedroom door. Expecting Daphne or Hermione again, he was surprised when he saw it was Tracy. The dark haired witch was wearing a dark coloured dressing gown, highlighting the paleness of her face. "Uh, hi Tracy. Not to be blunt, but..."

"What am I doing here?" Tracy finished for him as she closed the door behind her. "Blame you're first wife to be." She frowned slightly. "And your pet veela."

"Hermione?" Harry asked, frowning lightly at her description of Fleur.

"Yes." Tracy sat on the edge of the bed. "This is her answer to your concern about favouring her with your affections."

As they sat for a moment, Harry saw that her expression was a mixture of apprehension and fear. It was a moment before he understood the root of these emotions. After her experiences in the Slytherin Dorms, it was understandable that she would be reluctant, even afraid, to be close with a boy alone.

"We don't have to... you know..."

Tracy smiled slightly, her features relaxing a little. "She said the same thing."

Harry smiled in reply as he leaned back against the headboard. "So Hermione's idea is for each of you to take turns?"

"More or less." Tracy said shrugging, deciding not to mention the second half of the idea just yet.

They sat like that for almost a minute, silent as they both thought on their situation. Tracy was understandably reluctant and nervous to proceed, to make that first step towards intimacy. Harry, for his part, was determined not to pressure her. He felt that the others had been forced, for one reason or another, to be with him.

Finally however, Tracy's discomfort over the situation overcame her nerves. "Oh to hell with it!" she muttered standing up.

For a moment Harry thought that she'd decided not to go through with it, but his thoughts stilled when she undid the sash to her gown. As it fell off her shoulders it revealed an expanse of pale skin. Her upper back was almost totally bare, only marred by the thin straps running over her shoulders. The back dropped to just about her waist. As she turned he vaguely noted that the lower half of the nightdress fell from her hips to her feet in straight folds, but most of his attention was on her torso. In contrast to the back half, the front was quite demure, with a modest neckline that covered any hint of cleavage. The material was dark, but slightly transparent, hinting at the curves underneath. One part of his mind noted that Tracy was not as well-endowed as the other women around him, yet the slimmer figure seemed to suit her better.

Lifting his gaze to her face, he saw that her expression was nothing like what he'd seen of it at Hogwarts. There, she'd often sported one of mild disgust, if not contempt. It had been cold, hard-edged and dark. Here and now though, her feminine side was clearer. Her expression was nervous, even bashful. Dark eyes looked back at him, clearly seeking approval.

Smiling a little nervously Harry pulled back the corner of the cover, an open invitation for her.

Her features relaxed a little, before Tracy climbed in. The hem of her dress rose up a bit as she slid one leg under the covers, sliding up a lean but sleek calf. Flipping the duvet back Harry shifted across a little give her room to get settled. After a few moments wiggling and shifting, Tracy lay on her side facing him across the bed.

Silence fell again. "This is awkward." Tracy commented, prompting a small laugh from Harry.

"It is a big step for us isn't it?"

Tracy snorted. "Yeah." Harry was pleased to see her relax some more with his rather lame joke. Suddenly she laughed lightly. "You know, I would never have thought that you'd have a place like this Harry. You're so... meek, at school."

Harry flushed a bit. "Didn't know about here till this summer..." At her look of confusion, Harry started to talk softly about the summer so far.

For the next couple of hours the two talked quietly, speaking of their experiences both at home and at Hogwarts. Tracy provided another view into the activities within the Slytherin Dorm, as well as a wider view of the school itself. She was more of an observer, preferring to keep quiet and watch than be in the middle of things. Harry skimmed over his adventures, only focusing on points dear to him, such as Sirius' innocence in everything he had been accused with.

Harry was mildly surprised to find that he could talk about Sirius without the ache of his loss crippling him. It was still there, but the intensity was reduced. A tear still formed in his eye, but his voice didn't falter. Tracy, moved by the story of one man's dedication to right his mistake, felt for Harry, wishing she had had the chance to meet this man-child. Moving softly, she gently hugged him, offering comfort.

Tracy in return talked about her family. The strained relationship she had with her father, the distant one with her older half-brother Roger. While yes her father could be downright scary, even pigheaded, about certain subjects, she had always known, deep down, that he did love her.

Even if he had trouble showing it most of the time.

As they lay there, arms around each other, Tracy found that once she got past the initial feelings of unease she had when they first hugged, she found herself relaxing into his embrace. She felt so... safe, protected, within his arms. Tracy smiled as she felt his breathing deepen and slow, her own eyes closing inexorably.

She could very easily come to enjoy this.

* * *

Lily Potter smiled darkly as she set the phone down the next morning, well pleased. _'Vengeance is mine, so sayeth the lord...'_ She thought.

DCI Barstow had phoned just after Daniel had taken the youngsters out for their first morning run around the manor grounds. He'd called to update them on the Dursley case. All four were now behind bars, awaiting trial. In addition, every member of Dudley's gang were with them.

Marge and Vernon would never see freedom again, he predicted. Their charge sheets were as long as his arm... and each crime had multiple counts. Petunia's was only half as long, but her crimes were in some ways worse. Dudley's was nearly as long as his fathers and aunts, and still growing. It seemed that every single member of his gang thought they would get away without punishment by squealing on all the others, making out that they had been forced to go with them. None of them were aware how they were ratting each other out.

He did warn her however that while they were almost certain to get convictions on the abuse, neglect and assault charges, the fraud ones were less certain. He suspected their lawyer would argue that as no contract was signed, the Dursleys would be better classed as squatters in Privet Drive. And the current law stated that if squatters stayed in one place long enough, they were considered the owners of said location. The Dursleys had lived in Privet Drive more than long enough to do so. The payments for Harry's care and upkeep was also on shaky ground. Again, no signed contract, just an implied acceptance. As such, the funds could be considered gifts, and thus not fraud. Instead, the one who set up the payments would be the one liable. Of course, if they were convicted of their other crimes, then they would have to leave the house anyway, likely making the point moot.

Lily however, knew that Gringott's would view things a mite differently. Honour was most important to the Goblins, and the Dursley's actions smacked of dishonour. As did Dumbledore's, who'd been the one to set everything up.

No, they would not get away with what they did to her son.

Still smiling, she stepped out the front door, Emily behind carrying a tray with glasses of chilled water. The scene before them made her smile turn indulgent, while Emily's smile was mischievous.

The runners were gathered on the grass in the centre of the drive area, but that was all the linked them. Daniel Granger was the only one stood upright, slightly apart from the others. Also unlike them he wasn't panting for breath. In fact the only sign that he'd been jogging around the manor grounds several times was the light sheen of sweat across his bare arms, which only helped define the muscles in them.

In contrast, Remus sat on the grass, panting heavily, elbows on his knees. Tonks was sprawled out besides him, gasping for breath. With her metamorphic abilities, she was able to take vast gulps of air.

Of the teens, only Susan was still on her feet, and even then just barely. Her hands were pressed against her knees as she gasped for breath, her hair hanging limply around her head in sweaty clumps. The others were sprawled out on the grass, panting heavily, their sweat soaked clothes clinging to their bodies. Hermione looked like she'd almost passed out.

As Emily started to hand out the glasses, Lily stepped up next to Daniel. "How much did you do?"

"Three times around... just under two miles." He replied casually. "Easy warm up."

"EASY?" Daphne gasped from the ground. "You... call that... easy?"

Daniel fixed a hard look on her. "Yes, it was easy. I had to do _twenty_ mile runs while training... and that was while carrying sixty pounds worth of combat gear." His expression turned to one of contemplation. "Then afterwards, several hours of combat training."

"Okay, we get. You're super fit." Tracy snapped back. "You're going easy on us. But give us a break here!"

Daniel looked coldly back. "Would those Death Eater scum go easy on you?"

Silence was his answer.

Having made his point, Daniel turned back to face Lily. "I'll leave them in your care for the rest of the morning Mrs Potter. Now, if you'll excuse me…" As he turned she saw his eyes drifted and linger somewhere behind her for a moment before he completed his turn and started a brisk job. Frowning lightly, Lily looked over her shoulder… to see Narcissa Black stood on the top step, her eyes following the ex-solider.

'_Narcissa and a muggle? Who could have predicted that?'_

Deciding to not interfere, she turned to face the teens again, who were mostly sat up now, though they all still looked exhausted. After taking a swig from his glass, Harry looked up at her. "So what's the lesson today mum?" he asked, a small frown as he took in her dress. Instead of her usual smart-casual trousers and blouses, Lily had a worn pair of jeans, along with a simple t-shirt. Both had a few frayed edges, and had dark stains here and there…

Lily smiled. "I thought we'd do something fun today, before the nastiness we expect this evening." They all knew they were referring to the Order Meeting that was to happen later, which Lily, Harry and Hermione would attend. They also intended to bring several of the others with them into the meeting, such as Neville, Susan and Daphne. Fleur was already a member, while Tracy would tag along to tour the Black Family home. Both Harry and Hermione had warned her about the place, but admired her determination to see for herself.

"Oh, what do intend?" That one of the twins: Harry had lost track which was which… again.

"I vote for a water fight Forge." The other spoke up.

The first brightened. "Great idea brother of mine!"

"We all cool down…"

"…Have some fun…"

"…Enjoy ourselves…"

"…And be right perverts!" Susan cut in, looking sharply at the pair. They looked back at her with wounded expressions.

"Really, fair Miss Bones, you wound us."

"We're just thinking about…"

"…what's best for everyone."

Fleur snorted. "You are zhinking only of getting us all zoaking wet." She glanced down at her body. The lightweight top she'd picked out was clinging to her skin, outlining her figure very well. The other girls were in a similar situation, the wet clothing becoming figure hugging.

After a moment, during which the twins grinned salaciously – though Lily was able to tell that they were deliberately overdoing it, making a joke of it – Daphne smirked. "Well, we know the answer to that now, don't we girls?"

Hermione nodded. "A blast of ice cold water right to the crotch." At the twins cringe, she smirked. "Or would you rather a foot?"

Harry winced as the twins blanched, and Neville whimpered. Hannah, seeing his reaction, snuggled against his side to whisper into his ear. "I wouldn't if you only looked at me." Neville wasn't sure how to react after that.

Chuckling, Lily shook her head. "Now lets all simmer down. You can all play later. Besides, I had other plans." Turning she briskly walked over to the garage, allowing the keys to drop to the ends of her fingers as she did. The teens all staggered up right, Harry offering a hand to each of his future wives, before they followed her.

Opening the door again, Lily sighed as she looked over the Stag within. Pushing the nostalgia back, she pulled her wand from her back pocket before giving it a flick towards the car. Slowly, almost reluctantly, it rose into the air. Focusing, Lily slowly stepped backwards, the car following as if tethered to her wand. Emily, having followed with the tray which had refilled each glass of water, quickly set the tray down before moving to the rear of the garage. She came back out with a pair of axle supports. Harry, seeing them, quickly copied her actions, bringing out a second set.

A tiny bead of sweat ran down Lily's brow as she focused on keeping her car raised up, in the middle of a clear space, as Emily opened up each support and positioned it under the car, just inside each wheel. At her nod Lily lowered the car down onto them, Emily adjusting the position of the supports slightly as the car settled a foot off the ground. Ending the spell Lily breathed deeply. Turning to face the kids she saw the looks of bewilderment on some of their faces. "It's not widely accepted by society, but the power needed to use the hovering charm on objects is proportional to their weight. Most everyday objects are negligible, but particularly heavy objects…" She waved her hand at the Triumph that now rested on the axle supports. "…are very draining."

"How heavy is it?" Tracy asked curiously.

Lily smiled. "Just under one and a half tons." The twins leaped back from where they had been crouching down besides the car, peering up at the underneath. Their reaction brought laughter from them all. "Oh don't worry. Those axle supports can take twice as much weight no problem."

Harry had a look of realisation on his face. "Are you going to show us what Dad did to this?" He asked eagerly.

Lily laughed. "Right in one Harry. It's a perfect example of practical rune based charms and conjuration…"

The next four hours were spent happily, as Lily showed them all the runes curved into the bodywork and parts of the car, just like James had shown her all those years ago. Some of the runic work had been done by her, in collaboration with Remus and even Sirius during their last year at Hogwarts. At the time the Marauders had been using the work on Sirius' motorcycle. In the years after, the three of them had refined the work and applied it to the car, for her. He'd felt that as she'd put so much of the initial work into the creation of these runic systems, she deserved to reap the rewards.

Hermione was in awe at the way the runes had been used to enchant the car. The brakes had runes to improve their performance, cooling charms were bound into the engine itself, while all the electrical cables were wrapped in a layer of dragon hide. It was hard to see one, but Lily assured them that each body panel had strengthening runes carved into the inner faces, making the car much more resilient to damage. Not that wasn't a tank to begin with. Much of the weight came from the bracing needed with the open topped design. Even a non-enhanced car would have been tough, robust. The most shocking enchantment done however was in the rear. The exhausts had banishing runes engraved deep within, virtually eliminating all the exhaust fumes. This car was cleaner than the most recent designs! But what really took the cake were the runes that were, according to Lily, were engraved into the upper surface of the fuel tanks interior. Conjuration charms were bound into the arrays, creating the fuel needed for the car's thirsty V8 engine. Hermione didn't know that petrol could _be_ conjured! Why, with those charms the Stage before her would never need refuelling!

Not all the changes were hidden away. The interior had been redone with various dragon hides, again with runes on the inner surfaces to increase the durability of the hides. Controllable heating charms were bound into the seats. The three Marauders had gone over every inch of the car and improved nearly every function… an impressive feat, given that all three had been at least half-blooded with very little interaction with the muggle world growing up.

When Fred – or had it been George? – had compared the Stag with their dad's Ford Anglia, Lily had smiled before telling them that while Arthur's car had been able to do something the Stag couldn't, fly, her car had its own array of tricks. James had been inspired by James Bond's DB9 after seeing it at a movie she had dragged him to see, and had tried to create their own version. The strengthening charms helped the car's skin resist spell fire, while a powerful, layered shield charm protected the occupants within. Lastly, the Stag had an invisibility mode, which also triggered a silencing ward that contained the car. It had been perfect for staking out an area during their war, though he and Lily had only had a chance to do so twice before they had been forced to go into hiding.

As well as learning about the spell and charm work that had gone into the car, the teens also learned about the regular maintenance and general operation of the, at first look by some of them, fiendishly complicated machine. Harry understood the stains on his mums clothing then… especially when her hands came away with oil on them after explaining one part of the engine and she'd wiped it off against her jeans.

When they went back in for lunch, the teens were dirty and sweaty, with grease and oil marks on them, but they all knew that their world had been expanded and enriched. They had seen just how the two worlds, magical and muggle, could be combined to create something greater.

* * *

Hermione sat down gently next to Harry. "You okay?"

Harry breathed deeply. "Honestly? No, not really." He sighed once more. "But I have to do this."

"Just remember Harry…" Susan said softly as she and the other young witches gathered around the seated couple. "…We're all here for you."

Harry looked up into the circle of faces, each and every one of them showing their concern – and love – for him. While the rolling in his gut was still there, it was muted, softened. He nodded, summoning a small smile, as Remus emerged from a side room. Moving up he held out an old hula hoop. Quickly other hands clasped it, ready and waiting.

Nearly everyone was going on this trip. Remus and Tonks had to go anyway, and Fleur was also be there as an Order member too. Harry owned the house, while Hermione, Susan and Daphne would not leave his side. Lily had been a former member, while Tracy was to be the Lady Black. She was determined to inspect her future abode. Harry and Hermione had warned her several times about the place, but she was undaunted. Both of them were pleased at her courage.

The last three hands were Fred, Georges and Daniels. The twins were determined to join the order, as they were of age and ready to be involved. Daniel Granger however was coming along because he wanted to have a 'few words' with a certain long-bearded Headmaster.

"All set?" Remus asked. At the round of nods, he tapped his wand to the hoop. In a flash of colour they vanished with the portkey.

Lily barely remembered the trick to landing right, and stumbled a bit when she arrived. Remus and Tonks landed simply, while the twins staggered badly, only prevented from falling over by the fact they had latched onto each other. Fleur seemed to almost glide down, settling down with grace. Susan and Daphne almost stayed upright, but Harry and Hermione caught them both as they fell, bringing all four down into a heap. Tracy landed heavily to one, while Daniel Granger didn't even try to land on his feet, instead allowing his body to tumble, turning it into a roll before standing fluidly, eyes sweeping the area around them instinctively.

Once Harry was free of the others, he too looked around. The square was as dirty and run down as he remembered. While the sun was still high, the ground was still shadow from the buildings.

"Rough looking area…" Daniel murmured.

"Reflects the 'traditional' Black Family." Tonks threw back.

"One, I hope, will remain in the past." Harry said as he looked at Tracy knowingly. She blushed lightly but stuck her tongue out in response. Smiling, he reached into a pocket and drew out the note from the Headmaster. Unfolding it, he held it up.

As before, the house seemed to force its neighbours aside as it formed. Harry felt his gut lurch once more as he looked upon the building.

Number 12 Grimmuald Place.


	36. Order in the Black

**A/N: **Here's the next chapter, fress off the press.

* * *

Quietly the group entered the building, Remus opening the door with his wand. Motioning them for silence, they crept past the curtain-shrouded painting of Walberga Black, Sirius's mother. At one point Tonks froze, before making a very obvious and careful step to the side, moving around the troll leg umbrella stand that had dogged her in the past. As they filed in Daniels eyes were jumping from one feature to the next, searching and memorising points of cover. Those who hadn't been in the House of Black before were also looking around, their expressions mirroring the distaste they were feeling within at the dark gothic décor. Even Tracy felt that it was too heavy, too dark. The decrepit state certainly didn't help much. They were almost given away when Susan made out the House Elf heads that were mounted on the one wall. Only Daphne's hand clapping over her mouth cut off the yelp of shock and horror.

Once past the painting they filed into the sitting room, closing the door behind them with relief. It was only then that the younger ones realised that there was someone already in there. Remus had smelt him as soon as he had entered the building, while both Tonks and Daniel had swept the room as they had entered. It was easy to see who it was. The long robes – and even longer silver hair – were unique to this man.

"Headmaster." Harry addressed him without a trace of warmth.

Slowly the aged headmaster turned around from his contemplation of the mantelpiece. As his eyes ran over the group they were all struck at how _old_ the headmaster looked. He looked worn and defeated, as if all the strength had been sapped out of him of late.

"Harry." He replied simply. A small frown marred his brow. "I was not expecting you to bring such an entourage…"

"We stick together Headmaster." Harry answered him, linking an arm with Hermione. "There are no secrets within our family." His words set a warm glow within the young witches with him.

Remus meanwhile was sniffing the air, a puzzled look on his face. "Where are the others?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Not here yet. I set the Order meeting to start in another half hour." His eyes lowered. "I was… unsure, if you would allow us to continue meeting here."

After a few moments Harry replied. "Headmaster… I am willing to allow the Order to continue to meet here, for the _current crisis_." Dumbledore's expression began to brighten. "However… I do have a number of conditions."

The aging wizard nodded slowly, his expression turning stony. "Very well."

"First… while may meet here, this is not a rent-free hotel. They all have homes of their own to sleep in. Secondly, and more importantly, Molly Weasley is _not_ the owner of this place. She tries to boss any of us around, and she's barred!" Harry growled. Holding out his free hand, he glanced at Tracy. After a nervous nod she stepped forward to slide her own hand into his. "Tracy here is my betrothed for the House of Black. Grimmuald Place will be her house one day. She has the final word on what goes on in here. And lastly, we are all allowed to sit in on the Order meetings. According to that prophecy, I am the only one who can end Voldemort permanently. Anything even _remotely_ linked to him, and the fight against him, is of concern to me." Harry looked intently at Dumbledore. "Do we have an understanding?"

A glum nod was his response. "Yes Harry, we do. I must confess that I find your lack of faith… disappointing."

"Faith in you, you mean?" Daniel Granger spoke up, stepping forwards. Dumbledore found himself looking up at the taller, broader muggle… and only just managed to repress the urge to shiver. There was a cold, predatory intensity to the well-built man's gaze.

"Faith in general… Alas, I find I am unable to recall your name…"

"That's likely because we've not met before. Captain Daniel Granger, retired. You, however, I have heard much about… and frankly, I'm worried. If you're held up as an example in your world… then I pity the youth."

Dumbledore frowned for a moment, before the light of understanding appeared in his eyes. "Ah, I see. You must be that muggle relative of Miss Grangers that killed several Death Eaters." He shook his head slowly. "Regrettable…"

"I only regret not getting all of them." Daniel cut him off. "And not being awake to take them out before they harmed my brother."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock. "How can you be so callous? We can't just go around killing indiscriminately…"

"Wrong, Headmaster." Daniel took another step forwards, invading the older man's personal space. "I kill hostiles, carefully, cleanly. I take out threats to non-combatants… those who _do _kill indiscriminately. Or would it have been better for me to simply let them kill my brother and his wife, leave my niece an orphan?"

Dumbledore saw how he was backed into a corner, and so backed down. "I guess, if there was no other alternative, then direct action was the only choice you had. Surely though…" He lifted his gaze again. "…There were other ways to stop them, rather that just killing them?"

Daniel snarled in reply. "Mister, people like that don't deserve mercy. They came to our home intending to torture, rape and kill. And they would have done so without hesitation. You don't leave a foe able to recover and attack again. If they had not died, then another night they would done the same again to another family… one without someone like me there to stop them." His eyes bored into the older man. "Your idealism is misplaced old man. It's going to get you killed someday. I only hope you don't take any of the children in your care with you when you go to hell."

Dumbledore's eyes flashed with anger as he straightened, though he was still a few inches shorter than the former soldier. "That was uncalled for…"

"No! You listen, and listen carefully old fool!" Daniel cut him off, one hand uncoiling to jab Dumbledore in the chest. "The students at that school of yours should be your _first _and _only_ priority. Their safety and welfare paramount. Yet from what I've seen and heard, you treat the whole school like it's your personal playground, a test rig for your social experiments.

"You placed an incredibly valuable artefact in a hidden room… guarded by a giant dog that could have killed everyone in the castle! The only thing between it and a curious child was a _locked door,_ which even someone with barely a month's tuition was able to open! You made the oldest, stupidest mistake in the book: Tell a bunch of kids not to go somewhere, and most of them will, just to find out why they shouldn't! And then, you have the one who you were supposedly protecting the artefact from as a teacher!

"No answer? Well what about that Basilisk? You were around the first time it was released onto the student population. Didn't a young girl die back then? That was fifty years ago… surely in such a time you could have made sure that it would never happen again! But oh no, it's released once more, turning students to stone. _And you did nothing!_ It's only pure luck that Harry's still with us today. He took on, and defeated, a monster I would not want to face, ever!

"Third year… why the hell did you not prevent those… those _things _from being stationed around the school? Demons that guard your prison do _not_ belong anywhere near a school of children! You're fortunate that none of them died! As it was, Harry and my niece almost did! They had to break the laws of time to save themselves! And once more, you… did… nothing!" Each word was punctuated with another jab.

"Not content with allowing every single child in your care to be endangered, you then bring back a tournament that has _killed_ competitors in the past! Then, when clearly something is going wrong, you didn't do any thing to get Harry out of it! Never mind that he would be going up against students with three more years of schooling that him, the only staff help he gets is from the very person who put his name into the damn thing in the first place! A man who's acting skills fool you into thinking he's one of your oldest friends!" Dumbledore winced at that. He still felt ashamed at how easily Barty Junior had fooled him. But Daniel was on a roll, and pressed on. "Why the hell didn't you water down the tasks to take into account his age, hell, the ages of the others! Facing a full grown, nesting dragon? Would you normally send school kids out to do that in the wild?

"Then… you had the _audacity_ to have my niece chained to the bottom of a lake, to act as a hostage for someone she barely knows! You had no monitoring of them at all! _Anything _could have happened to her down there! And you would not have known!

"Finally, it happens. A student dies. Right in front of Harry. Just before he sees the one who murdered his father and tried to do the same to himself and his mother reborn. He suffers torture and injury, but manages to not only escape but also bring back his fellow students body back. What do you do? You pack him off to his relatives… relatives who beat him, starve him, and heap abuse on him. Not a word from you for over a month. Such events are traumatic. Harry needed his friends and concerned adults around him to come to grips with what he'd seen. I know several hardened soldiers who'd crack if they went through what Harry did. Yet you do nothing more than pat him on the head before exiling him.

"And then last year… you allow that, that _filth_ to walk all over you, torture the students again… and inflict even more torture on Harry by allowing a professor, _who clearly hates him_, to mind-rape him every week! What the hell were you thinking? Have you lost all common sense and compassion? Do you even understand people anymore?"

Daniel slowly straightened, glaring down at the now slumped Headmaster. "If it was up to me Hermione would never set foot in that castle again, not while you run the place. Sadly, it's more complicated then that. Nath' and Em' would have her out in a heartbeat, but only two things are staying their hand… for now. The lack of a decent alternative school, and her relationship with Harry." His eyes narrowed. "I wonder if the first is something else that you can be blamed for mister."

Dumbledore bristled for a moment, then looked again at the other man. Daniel Granger was unlike any wizard he'd dealt with in the past. This man was tall, broad shouldered and clearly in peak physical condition. Dumbledore was more than willing to believe that this ex-soldier could break his arm before he could get a spell off. There was also an air about him. Challenging this man would be… unwise.

Instead he sighed in resignation. "Alas, I am but the Headmaster of Hogwarts, not the Head of the Department of Education. While I many lead the Wizengamot, I have no real power to enforce change…"

"Oh, on that note you are wrong Albus." Lily spoke softly but intently. "As you said, you are the Headmaster of Hogwarts. The students who pass through its hallowed halls are the future leaders, both in politics and business, of the magical world. You have the power to show them how to behave once they leave: with honour, integrity, and compassion. Yet, from what I've seen, both from my time there and during Harry's, you've done more to deepen the rifts between the houses, not heal them. You allowed the bigotry to fester, and now our world is feeling the fruits of that. Those young boys like Malfoy; they believe themselves superior to others, and when they are not punished for inflicting their views on others, or for degrading those they look down on, come to believe that they have the right to act like that all the time. And once they leave the school, they will continue to act as they have, inflicting pain and suffering on others, because they _believe_ that they are untouchable. Those in power share that belief, and so, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, those young men _are _untouchable."

Dumbledore shifted, highly uncomfortable as Lily's remarks were hitting far too close to his goals and methods of late for comfort. From the narrowed look of her eyes, it was clear that she clearly suspected what he'd been doing. It was a look mirrored by the other young women.

Before another word could be spoken however the sound of the front door being opened drifted down the hall.

"Ah, I see the others are arriving." Dumbledore latched onto the interruption like a lifeline. "Shall we adjourn to the sitting room?"

Harry scowled, but nodded. "We will be finishing this conversation later Headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, knowing that he was not going to like that session any more than he had this one.

Quickly the various members of the Order entered the sitting room, and nearly each and every one of them stopped and stared at the group that were sat to one side. Eyes jumped between Harry and Lily in the main, though the others all got a glance. Daniel, standing just behind Hermione, was not impressed with what he was seeing. _'None of these people are even remotely hardened to combat… with the exception of him.'_ His eyes were on the heavily scarred Moody, who was looking back at him… with both eyes. The electric blue false eye ran down his body, before pausing at his waist. Daniel knew he'd just seen the combat knife that he was carrying. The teens had warned him that the retired Auror's replacement eye could see through things, such as clothing. When the eye came back up to meet his Daniel nodded, very slowly. Moody returned the gesture, the corner of his mouth twitching. In that instant an understanding passed between the two veterans.

As the Order filed in, Susan's eyes were drawn to the one figure. The man came shuffling in with a large sack over one shoulder, and was dressed worse than Mr Lupin had done in the past. She noticed how the others gave him a wide berth, noses wrinkling. Yet his motions were almost… furtive. He moved the sack with great care…

Then the first of the encounters the group were dreading came. Molly Weasley stomped with, her husband trailing behind her. He nearly walked into her when she stopped dead, her eyes fixed on Harry and the others.

"Harry, what are you doing here? This does not concern you dear. Why don't you head upstairs and join Ron and Ginny?"

Harry looked back at her with narrowed eyes. "Mrs Weasley… I'm afraid you are mistaken. This meeting _is_ my concern."

"Nonsense. This is a serious meeting for adults." She started off even as behind her Bill and Arthur groaned. Bill even covered his face with one hand as his mother droned on oblivious to their actions. "You're far to young to be worrying about adult topics. Why don't you go see how Ginny's doing? Hermione, you too. I'm sure Ron would love some help with his homework." Molly's eyes turned to the other teens. "As for the rest of you… don't your parents know where you are?"

Daphne scowled, and Susan actually growled as she meet the older redheads eyes. "My aunt knows I'm here Mrs Weasley. She would be here too if her duties didn't keep her so busy."

Molly scoffed. "Dear, you should not be so rebellious. Clearly you've had a bad example to follow, if your aunt's job takes priority over looking after you…"

Daniel was starting to wonder if this woman was really that obtuse or just plain stupid. It was clear that the youngsters were highly offended at her scolding, domineering tone and manner. He wondered who would put the loud mouth in her place…

"Now Harry, head on upstairs." Molly's eyes jumped to Lily and iced over. "It is not your place here."

"Oh, but it is, Mrs Weasley." Harry cut in. "Don't you remember? Sirius willed the bulk of the Black Family assets to me. Including this house. Besides, this meeting is regarding the Orders ongoing efforts against Voldemort…" Molly jumped at the name, while others shivered. Harry frowned, but pressed on. "…And considering his fixation on me, I think I deserve… no, _need_ to know what is happening."

"Harry! You are still a boy! Leave… him, to us, the adults." Molly snapped. Her eyes wandered over the others. "I think we need to contact these girls parents, let them know just how their daughters are being led astray…"

Motion out of the corner of his eye drew Harry's attention, and he turned slightly to see Daphne bowing her head a little. He was shocked to see a lone tear running down her cheek. At that point, his anger flared up. He looked at Molly once more even as his hand reached out and gently squeezed Daphne's.

"Mrs Weasley! Kindly restrain your tongue before I banish you from this house! And as for Voldemort… WILL YOU STOP THAT! …How many times have you faced him?"

Molly shivered, her mouth moving but no sound coming out. Harry pressed on.

"Shall I take your non-answer as an admission that you've never faced him then? Well, just to remind you, I have. Several times now. So has my mum." Harry reached out to touch his mother's hand with his own. "Each time we came away alive, if not unscathed.

"The young ladies with me stay with me. They have all, somehow, incredibly, found love for me in their hearts. With them at my side, I know that next time I face Voldemort, he'll not escape."

Molly scowled, her hands resting on her hips. "So my own son is not good enough for you, you… you French tart!" Her eyes were locked on Fleur, but before she could reply Molly's eyes were moving on. "And the rest of you? Trying to get your claws into Harry's money! I expected better from you Miss Granger! You were such a nice girl before!"

Daniel scowled as he stepped forwards. "That's enough Ma'am. I _suggest _you sit down and be quiet." His voice was calm on the surface, but the _tone_ and _implication _were anything but.

Molly, being who she was, missed all the signs completely. "And just who the hell are you?"

"Daniel Granger. Hermione's uncle." He took another step forwards, towering over the dumpy woman. "And I don't take kindly to people insulting my niece. As those… 'Death Eaters' was it? … Found out. The lesson for those five was quite… permanent."

Tonks shivered in her seat as his words, having seen the aftermath of his 'lesson'.

Molly however again missed the hidden message. "What do you mean by that? I don't like your attitude one bit…"

"And I find you to be a disgusting example of stupidity!" Daniel snapped, his calm manner gone in an instant. Molly recoiled as he took another step, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at his face, now displaying his anger clearly. Clearly fearing for his wife's safety, Arthur stepped forwards, clamping a hand down onto her shoulder.

"Molly, sit down and be quiet! This man killed five Death Eaters single-handedly. And before you insulted the niece of Amelia Bones, along with the director herself! And the eldest grand-daughter of Lord Greengrass."

If he weren't so angry with her, Harry would have found the way Molly's face rapidly lost all colour quite amusing.

"One last thing Mrs Weasley." Harry stood up and walked over to stand next to Daniel, eyes glaring at the woman who he had once half-considered a mother figure. "As the heir to the Black Family, this is _my_ house. You have no right to speak as if you own it. Someday, after we graduate, it will become Tracy's home, as Lady Black. Until that time, I am allowing the Order to meet here in safety in order to ensure the destruction of Voldemort." His gaze bore into the now trembling woman. "Don't make me regret that choice. You will not like the results."

"So… Throwing your weight around Potter? Finally revealing your true colours… just as I've always known."

There was only one being on the planet who spoke like that.

Harry's glare increased tenfold as he turned to face the doorway, just as Snape stalked in with his robes billowing ominously behind him. His look was matched in full by the older man, who was sneering even more than he normally did. Unlike the others in the Order, Snape fitted into the house as if born to it.

Behind Harry Hermione stiffened in her seat. She and Daphne had shared their theory that Snape had been the one to provide her and Katie's home addresses with the others living in Potter Manor. Hermione had been unsure as to how she'd react when she laid eyes on the professor again. Knowing now just how he abused his power within his own house – turning a blind eye to the depraved activities of the Junior Death Eaters – all her remaining respect for him had died. She'd respected his obvious skill and talent, and at first the position he held, a holdover from her days before Hogwarts, when the teachers had been the ones who had defended and praised her at school. But as his abuse of his position became more and more obvious, not to mention his unreasoned hatred of Harry, she'd lost all faith in him.

Snape stood just within the doorway, fingertips pressed together as he stared at Harry darkly. His disdain for the younger man was obvious, bordering on outright hatred. "I suppose that the mutt left you everything? Don't think that that makes you special Potter. It just proves that Black was just as insane as always."

"You're wrong professor." Daphne spoke up, stepped forwards to stand at Harry's side. She faced her former head of house squarely; barely able to keep her shivers contained when he turned his glare on her. Her respect for Harry, for having to face this for the last five years, rose. "Harry _is_ special. In more ways than you'll ever know."

Snape sneered disdainfully. "While I'm sure that you find his skills in bed mildly entertaining Miss Greengrass, I can not see how that would even be of interest to the rest of us." His gaze moved back to Harry. "Regardless of Miss Greengrasses infatuation with you Potter, you are not entitled to be here. Not that you could ever grasp what was discussed here, if your performance in class is anything to go by."

"He would perform better in class if you did not persecute him so, Severus." Lily cut into the confrontation. Harry felt his nerves and anger ease as her hand came to rest on his shoulder. Snape's face jumped to hers... and immediately softened and eased. The scowl faded, leaving an expression that Harry could not identify... but which did make him very uneasy.

"Lily..." Snape's tone was unlike any the teens had heard before. "The headmaster told me... but I couldn't believe..."

Lily regarded her former friend coldly, unsmiling. While she'd seen him through Harry's eyes, seeing Snape in person was still a small shock. He looked older, more so than she had expected. There was also a dark 'air' about him that he did not have when she last saw him with her own eyes. The years in between had clearly been hard on him.

"I survived Serverus, only by slight chance. In all probability, I _should_ have died. Even then, I would not have lived again if Harry hadn't come home." She smiled down at her son as she ruffled his hair, missing the scowl that darkened Snape's face once more at her actions.

"Chance... or fate?" He asked when she was looking back at him.

The small smile she wore faded. "Don't Severus. In my mind, I'm still married to James."

Snape looked murderous at this news, his eyes flaring. "That arrogant snob is _dead _Lily! It's time to..."

Lily whipped her wand out, silencing him instantly. "Don't talk about James that way! He was ten times the man you could ever _hope_ to be! He may be dead, but no one will ever replace him in my heart." Lily slowly closed her eyes, exhaling loudly. "Serverus… Let go of the past. There can never be what you hope for between us. I will remain faithful to James until death finally claims me."

Harry, watching Snape, saw how Lily's word affected him. He seemed torn between despair and rage, with a health dose of disbelief thrown in for good measure. His lip was trembling as if he was about to start wailing like a baby… but the shaking of his body was more that of someone on the verge of a violent temper tantrum. Inside, Harry was feeling… _sullied,_ by the thought that Snape dreamed of marrying his mother. As he forced down the nausea the mere idea created, the metaphorical light bulb lit up in his mind. Was this the root of Snape's treatment of him since his arrival in Hogwarts? He was living, breathing proof of the love that existed between his parents… between the woman Snape loved and his bitterest rival. Had the knowledge that Lily had fallen in love with, married and had a child with the one man he hated more than any other been the cause of Snapes fall into darkness? No, Harry decided, it wasn't the main cause. But it likely made the fall easier. Unbidden the thought of the possible children that Hermione and Draco could have had entered his mind. Seeing her eyes in Draco's face… He shivered in disgust. Such a union, thankfully totally out of the bounds of possibility, would have devastated him, driving him to despair and loneliness. In contrast, her marrying Ron would be highly desirable.

Before any more could be said the Headmaster coughed. "Perhaps we could get back to why we are all here?"

Both Lily and Harry nodded, before retreating back to their chairs along with Daphne. Daniel, however, remained where he stood, eyes narrowed as he glared at Snape. He'd remained quiet during the confrontation between the former friends, knowing it was not his place to interfere. However… there was another issue with this… person that he wanted resolved before anything else occurred. Snape looked back at him with his blackest scowl, which slowly faded into a look of concern when Daniel's expression remained unchanged, his body clearly wired and ready for anything. The rest of the Order were suddenly aware of the powerful, physical nature of this unknown man. He exuded a calm but deadly presence that even the densest member felt, imprinting onto them the sure knowledge that if he were to turn on the Order, there would a blood bath. And it was not certain that he could be stopped.

Across the room Moody smiled grimly. He'd instantly recognised him for what he was, though it was a long, long time since he'd seen another. This man was trained, professional soldier, one who'd seen combat and lived to tell the tale. While he only carried a knife – admittedly a large, lethally formed one – Moody was convinced that he knew _exactly _how to use it, and could take out nearly the whole Order if he wished to. Moody was not sure if even he could stop him.

Dumbledore sighed as he noticed the muggle soldier had not moved. "Was there something else you wish to air, Captain Granger?"

Snape's eyes jumped to Albus, widened with shock. "A muggle? Here? What point is there for a low… a _muggle_ to be involved in _our _world?"

"It's really, quite simple.' Daniel spoke softly, but with latent threat. Since everyone else was silent, they all heard him. "It involves us 'lowly' muggles when our blood is spilt by your kind. When 'wizards' rape and murder muggles for sport, simply because they can.

"But as for what I wanted to discuss, it is really quite simple. One question." He locked gazes with Snape. "Did you or did you not give the addresses of my brothers family to this 'Voldemort' character, along with that of the Bell family?"

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Professor Snape has my complete confidence and trust, Captain." He stated firmly.

Daniel turned his head to look at the older man slowly. After a couple of seconds he spoke. "While that, I'm sure, is of _great_ comfort to you, 'Headmaster'… It does nothing for me!" He refocused his gaze on Snape. "I'm waiting for an answer, mister."

Snape puffed up. "I have no need to answer to you muggle!"

"Yes, or no?" Daniel asked again, louder and more firmly this time.

"Look, I really don't see the need…" Dumbledore began.

"YES OR NO?" Daniel roared.

Snape sneered at the taller man, confident that Dumbledore would protect him, even if to only protect his asset. "The Dark Lord gave me a task. Refusing or failing to carry out a task he sets you… is nearly always fatal. He could have gotten that information from the Ministry any…" His words were cut off as Daniel's fist buried itself in his stomach. Snape folded over, coughing and retching, before Daniels knee came up and slammed into his face. Snape pitched backwards to land painfully on the floor, blood streaming down his face. Glaring up at the clearly furious muggle, Snape went for his wand. A slight movement was his only warning before Daniel's combat boot slammed into his wrist, shattering every bone in his hand and sending the wand flying.

"Get up." Daniel growled darkly.

"That's enough!" Dumbledore protested, moving to stand between the two men. He allowed his power to flow, lighting up his aura around him as he faced down Daniel. The others in the Order allow edged back from the display.

But the biggest shock was that the muggle did not. Instead his gaze was fixed on the battered man on the floor.

"No, it's not enough." Daniel hissed. "That sack of shite is directly responsible for my brothers family being attacked, for the murder of the Bells! I, for one, will not let him escape unpunished for his actions against my family!"

Shackbolt stepped up slowly, his dark gaze boring into the fallen potions master. "You have to admit, Albus, that we were not warned of the forthcoming attacks. If we had, we could have been ready for them…"

"…And Voldemort would know he had a spy in his inner ranks." Dumbledore sternly told him. "Given his recent losses, he would have quickly sussed out that Serverus was the most likely suspect. Then we would lose all knowledge of his plans and actions."

Daniel's gaze snapped to the older wizard. "You would sacrifice innocent families to maintain your spies cover?"

Dumbledore's gaze was unyielding. "In a word, yes. We are at war, and in war sometimes we must sometimes sacrifice a few, to save all. For The Greater Good of the whole world, Voldemort must be stopped. I will do whatever it takes to stop him, or he will one day rule the world, casting a cloud of terror and death over all living things, magical and muggle alike." His eyes flashed with repressed emotion. "Don't think I don't care. I do, but I can not allow my own sentiments to cloud my judgement."

Despite his anger, Daniel had to admit a grudging respect for the Headmasters position. Soldiers were often at the crux of such a position, and understood the reasoning behind such choices.

But that didn't mean he had to agree or like it.

"And was Harry to be another 'required sacrifice' to end Voldemort?" Hermione asked, her tone glacial.

Dumbledore sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand as he allowed his aura to fade. "That, I fear, is a topic that we should not discuss here and now. May I suggest we all calm down and refocus our energies on the threat of Voldemort?"

Surprisingly it was Harry who supported him. "I agree Headmaster, we should save our strength for battling the Death Eaters. But when they are gone…" The implication was clear.

Nodding sagely if wearily, Dumbldore turned to crouch over Snape, waving his wand in the motions of some simple numbing and healing charms. Snape would require the attentions of Pomfrey to make a full recovery, but the Headmasters work would be enough for now. Daniel, receiving a small nod from Harry, moved back to the group, leaning against the wall behind them. The easy, languid way he moved just reinforced the latent threat he was.

Once his potions master was back on his feet Dumbledore sighed before taking his seat. "Now then, why don't you start by reporting on Voldemort's action since those… attacks."

Snape started to sneer, but winced part way through as pain radiated out from his still broken nose. "The Dark Lord was most… disappointed, with the results of the attacks. Two of the wounded Death Eaters died during his 'punishment' of their failures. Since then he's been withdrawn, rarely calling his followers to him. His alliance with Major Greengrass…" Daphne stiffened at the name. "…is deepening, but there are, tensions, between them. Greengrass is either unaware of just how he is pushing the Dark Lord's tolerance, or is deliberately doing so as a test."

"Hmph. Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll off each other." Tonk's called out.

Snape sneered back at her. "Hardly. While he is skilled, Greengrass is no match for the Dark Lord. Even with his men at his side, they would loose."

"Still, at least that would drain some of their strength."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Is it possible to engineer a falling out between the two Serverus?"

Snape shrugged. "Unlikely. Greengrass is too slick to fall into one. He maintains enough deference to appease the Dark Lord, while his more… vindictive streak appeals to the Dark Lords own."

Nodding sagely, Dumbldore turned to regard another member.

Throughout the meeting, Tracy's eyes had wandered over the room and the occupants. She knew that she ought to be paying more attention to what the others were saying, but to her ears it sound to much like they were talking simply to make themselves feel important. Instead her thoughts were wandering to the rest of the house. Number 12 Grimmuald Place was definitely in a sorry state, and the décor left much to be desired. But underneath the dirt and trappings of a family steeped in darkness she could see that the house had potential. A rarely exercised artistic talent was reworking the house, changing wallpapers – even the walls layout – within her mind. She knew that no definite plans could be made until she'd seen the whole house, but there was promise.

Her eyes landed on one of the silver goblets that rested on the side table, provided for the Order members to use. Whatever the faults with the Blacks of old, they did have a fine collection of items that could be reused in a new House of Black. Things like goblets, cutlery and dressers could be used anywhere…

Her eyes froze, then widened slightly. Across the table from her, tucked into a corner, the 'man' who had responded to Dumbledore's call of 'Mundungus' had been sitting with one of the goblets in his hands. He'd been one of the few to partake of the water provided. However, he'd just slipped the goblet into his coat pocket with furtive moves. Her eyes narrowed in anger. How dare that… that 'man' steal Harry's property! Realising she'd give herself away if she continued to glare at him, she turned her head to one side slightly, enough to make it look like she wasn't watching him. "Susan?" she spoke softly to the girl sitting next to her.

The redhead turned to look at her. "Hmph?"

Tracy nodded her head towards Dung. "That Mundungus person's just placed one of the goblets in his pocket." Her eyes flickered to meet Susan's, which were widening themselves.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Susan frowned before speaking lowly. "He looked dodgy when I first saw him. Once the meeting breaks up…"

"… And thus I think we've covered everything we need to this evening." Dumbledore spoke from the end, concluding his round of remarks. "Remember if you hear anything to relay it to one of our auror members. Now, I do think it's time for a nice cup of tea… anyone care to join me for one?"

Across from the girls Mundungus stood up. "Argh, sorry Dumbledore sir, but I gotta go. Keep me ear on the ground, as it were."

Dumbledore smiled warmly, even as McGonagall and Molly sniffed in disgust. "Ah, very good Mundungus. Do let us know what you find out. I look forward to knowing just what the Death Eaters are purchasing these days."

Mundungus nodded, jamming his foul pipe into a pocket before retrieving his sack. As he lifted it onto his shoulder there was a faint clinking sound. "Well, I'll be off then…"

"But before you do…" Tracy said standing up, Susan right behind her. Together the two young women moved to block the exit for the thief. Tracy glared at him. "Hand back the goblet."

The short man affected an innocent expression. "Ere, what? What you kids mean? What goblet?"

"The one that's currently resting in your coat pocket mister." Tracy stated. "The one with the crest of the House of Black on it."

"Now see 'ere!" Mundungus bristled. "You can't just go around accusing people of stealing without proof! Ain't right! Besides, I ain't got one of those fancy Goblets."

Around them the Order Members were looking between the two. Molly scoffed, but her gaze was resting on the two young women. "You are a thief and a liar Dung, but you have a point. This is why this meeting should be for adults only girls."

Susan however was undaunted. "If you've nothing to hide, why don't you turn out your pockets? All your pockets."

By this point Harry had joined the two, eyeing Mundungus suspiciously. He remembered how this man had abandoned his post in 'guarding' his last summer to make a deal on some stolen cauldrons, and while some of his tales were amusing, there had always been a seedy side to him… "What's in the sack Mundungus?" he asked suddenly.

The older but shorter man jumped at the question, prompting another muffled 'clink' sound from the sack in question. "Err… nothing much. Just a few odds and sods I was keeping here. Thought I'd gather them up, seeing how the ownership of this joint was in doubt, ya know. Really ought to have taken them home before now…"

"Really?" The doubt was clear in Harry's tone. "Let's take a look. Sure to be some 'interesting' things, knowing you…"

"Oh really it's nothing to waste everyone's time with…"

"Indulge me." Harry's voice was a command, not a request.

"Children, please." Dumbledore spoke up. "Mundungus has my complete trust." There was definite note of finality in the Headmasters voice. As if his statement was the end of the matter.

He did not, however, factor in Lily's opinion.

"While that's very well and good Albus… he does not have _our_ trust. And that is the crux of the matter." Lily moved to stand behind Harry, glaring at the older man. "Open it up Mundungus. There had better not be anything from this house in there…"

Mundungus was clearly flustered. "I'm telling ya, there ain't anything from here in this!"

"LIAR! FOUL LOATHSOME TRAITOR!"

The screeching preceded a small body throwing itself at Mundungus. As it collided with him Harry was able to see that it was Kreacher, the Black Family house elf. The frail old elf was clawing at Dung, scrabbling for the sack while very nearly foaming at the mouth. All the while hissing and yelling in outrage.

"Foul thief's taken masters locket! Stolen mistresses jewels! Taken what is not his! Dirty blood traitor! Kreacher will not let you take it! Must destroy it…"

With a yell Mundungus threw the elf off. Hermione gasped as Kreacher slammed into the wall spread-eagled, before sliding down to lie in a crumpled heap on the floor. "Crazy thing… why we didn't banish it right from the get go…" Tracy's eyes however had zeroed in on a tear that the House Elf had made in the sack. It was small, but within she could see a glint of a gemstone, the shine of silver.

"Crazy or not, he's right." She said pulling her wand before levelling it on the surprised would-be thief. In seconds the other teens and Lily had copied the motion.

"Now see here…" Dung backed up, his eyes jumping between wand points.

"Aurors, I'm accusing this man of stealing from the House of Black." Tracy snapped, her eyes fixed on the sack. "Someone please arrest him and search that sack!"

Tonks stood, closely followed by Moody. "No need to search it lass." Moody growled, fake eye locked on the sack. "I can see plain as day what's in it. Dung, you thieving scoundrel!"

Moody's words started the thief shivering. "Now hang on, I didn't take anything from 'ere!"

Moody's reply was growl. "Then explain how all that Black Family jewellery, cutlery and other trinkets ended up in your sack!"

"Isn't it obvious?" Snape drawled, his voice filled with contempt. Lily, warned by something in his voice, turned to see that his gaze was not on Dung… but on Harry. "Potter's obviously gotten his elf to fill the sack with those things during the meeting. Then, when the 'thief' is discovered, he'll try and expel us from here, so he can turn it into his new lust nest. Clearly, the thought of having all the power of the Black Family has gone to his head. And I thought it couldn't get any bigger. Truly pathetic Potter."

"Severus! You are casting unfounded aspirations on one of my students!" McGonagall now stood, bristling as she glared at the potions professor. "I warmed you Severus, you are already on thin ice in regard to Mister Potter! I _suggest_ you keep such nonsense to yourself!"

"No! It makes total sense!" Molly screeched, her face red with outrage. "Harry wants us all gone, so he can continue to corrupt these fine young girls! Though I'd never thought you'd be in on it too 'Lily'. I'm beginning to think you're not really Lily Potter at all… just someone whose impersonating her." Her eyes widened as a thought struck her, and she looked at Harry with a sick expression. "Are you that sick, to desire your own mother?"

"If I did, it'd be YOUR fault!" Harry snapped back. "You've been trying to push me and Ginny together for the last year now at least. And who does she look more like, my mum or you?"

Molly puffed up. "Why you…"

"ALL OF YOU STOP THIS MADNESS RIGHT NOW!" Dumbledore bellowed before the enraged redhead could take a step. Everyone froze for a moment, before Dung took a chance and jumped forward. He barged between Tracy and Susan before knocking Harry down with his sack inadvertently as he turned to run for the door. But before anyone could even think of taking action there was a 'pop'… and Dung was violently thrown backwards through the air tumbling. He slammed into the wall near the ceiling before crashing down onto a side table, which shattered under the impact. His sack burst as it hit the wall… and a cascade of valuable and semi-valuable items poured out over the crook. Most were recognisable as items from around the house, but gasps arose from the other Order members as they saw some of their own belongings in the mix.

"YOU WILL NOT HURT MASTER HARRY POTTER!" Dobby's voice told everyone just who had stopped the thief before he could escape. The now three foot tall elf stood framed in the door, panting slightly as he glared at the fallen man. The recently grown head of charcoal black hair on his head was sticking straight out, and the camouflage fatigues he wore – modelled on the one that Daniel used to wear – was straining to contain his muscular frame. Nearly the whole Order were staring at the strange looking elf… all except Dumbledore. The aging headmaster was looking at Dung and the pile of obviously stolen items on him with clear, transparent disbelief.

"I think you need to re-think just who you trust, Headmaster." Daphne commented sharply. "And to what extent."

Hermione had reached Harry and was helping him up while Tonks and Remus were standing over the fallen Dung. "You all right Harry?" She asked softly as he stood.

Harry shrugged. "Had worse falls from the Dursleys." He looked over the spilt loot. "Well, he's not coming back to this house."

"He won't be going anywhere lad." Moody growled. "Except Azkaban if I have my say. Stay back you lot! Let's us sort out what is what first, then you'll get your trinkets back!"

At a nod from Harry Hermione and Fleur moved forward to start picking out the items while Remus and Tonks stood over them, watching both the unconscious Dung and the other Order members. Lily was stroking Harry's head while glaring at Snape, who was clearly fuming. Daphne had moved to look over the fallen Kreacher, reasoning that being a 'pureblood' she'd be more acceptable to the old elf. Despite his age and frailty, the crotchety old elf was still alive, just winded by the impact.

Working quickly, the various items were moved to an area before Dung rather than piled over him. Joined by Susan and Tracy, Fleur and Hermione began to sort out the obviously Black Family items from the other stuff. Tracy gathered the former and moved it separately while Susan offered up each of the latter for claims of ownership. Having warned everyone that with House Elves being able to know if someone lied while they were in a house that their master owned, no one tried to lay claim to things that were not their own. Most of the things were the sort that none of those gathered would have wanted to own anyway.

It was as they were dealing with the last few items that Fleur gasped suddenly, jumping backwards to land on her rear, her face ghastly pale with an expression of pain and horror.

"Fleur?" Hermione looked up, startled. "What is it?"

"Mon dieu… I, I touched something… It was… _cold._ 'Errible…"

Harry moved quickly to kneel beside the clearly traumatised witch. The instant his arms went around her Fleur stopped trembling so violently, her expression of terror and anguish easing. Gently he rubbed her back, soothing her, before softly asking. "Fleur… which thing was it?"

Fleur stiffened slightly. Swallowing audibly, she half-whispered in reply. "I'm not sure 'arry. It was small… but ze darkness within! Mon dieu!"

Harry shared a look with the others. "Think it's another one?" He asked aloud.

Hermione nodded as she eased herself back from the items nervously. "Remember her reaction to the goblet at Gringotts." Susan put in.

Harry nodded, remembering how Fleur had shied away from the goblet that Bella had retrieved from the LeStrange Vault. The goblet that was one of Voldemort's horcruxes. He turned his head to find Bill Weasley. "Bill, we need your expertise here."

The Curse Breaker frowned lightly but stepped forwards, drawing his wand as he did. "What do you need Harry?"

Hermione waved a hand over the items on the floor. "We're pretty sure one of these is another Voldemort Horcrux."

"WHAT?" Dumbledore shot forward to tower over Hermione. "Where did you hear that word Miss Granger?"

Hermione however was watching Bill as he started casting. After his first spell he grimaced. "There's one here all right." Dumbledore's beard flailed through the air as he spun to stare at the youngest Weasley in stunned shock. It was clear he didn't know that Bill could detect the presence of such a dark item. Bill remained focused on his work, casting several spells in succession before a golden locket began to glow darkly. "There it is." He stated with a measure of disgust.

"Harry! It's that locket from last year!" Hermione exclaimed, eyes wide in shock. "You remember that Locket none of us could open?" Harry grimaced. He did remember.

"Good thing you did fail." Bill said as he used a knife to lift the locket by its chain off the floor. "From what I'm getting off this thing, the locket being closed is containing most of its power. There's still an amount of leakage, but you'd have to be either really sensitive to such things…" He glanced at Fleur as she shivered. "…Or spend a long period of time around this thing to feel it. But it's got an insidious aura; I'd not trust it behind anything."

Harry looked focused. "Can you destroy it?"

"Harry, I must examine…" Dumbledore begun, starting to move towards the table where Bill had laid the locket down, but Lily stepped into his path.

"Don't you trust an expert curse breaker to be able to handle this, Albus?" She asked with one eyebrow raised.

Dumbledore puffed himself up. "This is a matter best kept quiet… and I have to admit, one that only a few are capable of dealing with…"

"Like myself." Bill cut the older wizard off as he took a step back. Harry noted however that his wand was still trained on the locket. "Harry… I can remove the Horcrux from the Locket, or destroy it completely, once we get it open. But this thing's been bathed in the magic of this house for too long. If I attempt to banish it while fighting my way through the Black Family magic…" he trailed off, leaving unsaid the clear end result.

Harry slowly stood, bring Fleur up with him. "What must I do?"

Bill shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid you can't do anything. Only someone's who got a deep connection to the Black Family can disown the locket."

Susan groaned. "And all the Blacks are dead…"

"Not quite all Susan." Daphne said, prompting heads to turn. She still kneeling on the floor, next to the House Elf Kreacher who was sitting up and watching the proceedings with wide, manic eyes.

"What is the filthy blood traitor doing with Master Regulus's locket? Oh mistress, how has the noble house fallen…"

"Hold on Kreacher." Harry cut in, forcing down the distaste he felt for the elf before him. "This locket belonged to _Regulus_, Sirius's little brother?"

Kreacher shifted and growled, but answered after a moment. "Not as such. Regulus bade Kreacher destroy it…"

Harry frowned, thinking back to the previous summer, to when Sirius had told him about his family. He'd mentioned how Regulus had become a Death Eater… and then later one tried to quit, hence his death. But he sensed there was more to the story…

"Kreacher… why did Regulus want you to destroy it? Could he not?"

Kreacher shivered, seeming to fold in on himself. "Master Regulus could not. Poor master, did not deserve that! Died to get it…"

Harry moved to kneel before the distraught Elf, the presence of the Order forgotten. "What happened Kreacher? Tell me everything."

Haltingly, the frail old House Elf began his tale of woe, how the Dark Lord had required an elf from one of his minions. How Regulus had offered up Kreacher's services, unaware of what the Dark Lord intended. How Kreacher had been forced to drink a vile potion in a stone bowl so that the Dark Lord could place the locket within it, before leaving the House Elf there while hundreds of Inferi had advanced on the pain-wracked elf. How he'd barely made it back to Grimmuald Place, where Regulus had tended to him. Then, when Kreacher had recovered, the two of them had returned to that cave… and Regulus had drunk the potion, ordering Kreacher to force him it if he had to so they could get the locket. Then, once the potion had been drained and the locket switched for one that Regulus had brought with them – containing a note for the Dark Lord – how he had given Kreacher his Final Order: return to Grimmuald Place and destroy the Locket, so that one day the Dark Lord could be destroyed himself. Kreacher had tried to refuse, as not only were the inferi advancing on his beloved master, but Regulus was dieing from the potions effects. But Master Regulus had repeated the order, even as the first inferius had reached him and started to tear attack. Kreacher had left then, but not before catching a glimpse of his masters arm being torn from his body.

Kreacher had then told the shocked and horrified listeners about how he'd tried again and again to destroy the locket, but nothing he did worked. The locket had mocked him, taunted him, with his failures.

Harry backed away slightly. Hermione and Lily moved to join him. "You think this lockets the reason he's so… unpleasant?"

Lily nodded. "Having seen his master die when he could have saved him if not ordered to go, then unable to fulfil his last order…"

"…It'd drive anyone crazy with grief and despair." Hermione completed. Sometimes it scared Harry just how in tune his mum and Hermione were with each other.

He looked at Kreacher once more, noting how he saw slumped down. Retelling that story must have been harrowing. His gut and mind agreed with each other, and he acted.

"Kreacher." He said as he knelt once more, prompting the elf to look up. "We can destroy the locket… but we need your help to do it. You can fulfil Regulus's last wish."

Kreacher pulled on his ears. "Oh my mistress! Kreacher must destroy the locket, but can't. Miserable half-blood offers help to do it… Kreacher must." He looked up at Harry determinedly.

Harry gestured to where Bill was still stood over the locket. "That man there is Bill Weasley, a Curse Breaker from Gringotts bank. He can destroy the locket, but needs you to lift the Black Family magic off it." Kreacher started at the name, but paused at the mention of the wizarding bank, before his shoulders slumped as the words 'destroy the locket'.

Kreacher shuffled over to Bill, before snapping his fingers over the locket. A dark haze seemed to lift from the lockets surface, and it trembled. The moment it faded, Bill began to cast rapidly… before swearing loudly. "Damn! I need to get this thing open to finish the job, but nothing works! It's magically sealed, but the key is a language I don't know…"

Dumbledore seemed to pull himself out of the stupor he'd been in. "I believe, from the appearance, that it once belonged to Salazaar Slytherin himself…"

Hermione gasped before looking at Harry. "Harry, Parceltongue!"

Harry's eyes widened. Could that be the key? Eager to try he stepped forwards… then paused. "Wait. What if I can't speak it any more? What if I lost that ability when that Horcrux behind my scar was banished?" A ring of gasps arose from around them, but Harry's focus was on Hermione.

She raked her brains, thinking hard. But in the end, she had to admit to something she hated to admit. "I don't know Harry…"

"Oh, what the hell!" Harry snapped before focusing on the Locket once more. Willing himself to believe he was facing a snake, he closed his eyes to fix the image in his mind… _**$Open…$**_

The spoken snake language sent shivers up all the gathered spines, but the locket springing open made them all jump. A dark cloud seemed to roil from within, and from behind two misty glass panes within a pair of red eyes glared out at them all.

"_**You think that you can stand before me? I am all powerful, nothing you can do can stop Lord Vol…"**_

"Try this then!" Bill snapped before incanting a long string, ending with him thrusting the point of his wand almost into the locket. White light blasted from the wand tip, and the presence in the locket screamed horrifically, tearing at the mind of those there. There was a thunderclap, before the dark clouds broke into dust that quickly vanished. The red eyes seemed to explode, shattering the glass within the locket. When the light faded the locket was lying inert, the glass gone, the gold tarnished and warped.

"Is it…?" Susan asked quietly.

Bill, breathing heavily, weakly waved his wand a few times. "Yes… It's destroyed." He answered in a weak voice. He seemed to waver on his feet as he allowed his arm to fall to his side. Instantly Fleur was at his side, guiding him to a chair where he sat down heavily.

Harry sighed, relaxing, before he noticed the House Elf Kreacher was still staring at the broken locket. "Kreacher?"

"Kreacher has done it." The elf appeared to have not heard Harry. "It's destroyed Master. Kreacher has done as you ordered." Then to Harry's shock Kreacher collapsed to the floor limply, the thud cutting any celebrations that had begun.

"Kreacher?" Harry called again, but there was no response. Dobby stepped over before bending over the fallen elf. After a moment he looked up at Harry sadly.

"Kreacher Elf was very, very old Master Harry. Only Last Command was keeping him alive. With duty done…" Dobby blinked away a tear.

Harry stared at the limp form. He'd caused this. His order had, in effect, ended the house elf's life…

A warm feminine body wrapped around him from the side. "Don't blame yourself Harry." Hermione said softly. "He died fighting Voldemort, carrying out a dieing man's last wish." He could hear the tears she was holding back in her voice.

"You couldn't have known Harry…" Lily said comfortingly as she rested a hand on his shoulder as Dobby popped the dead elf's body away.

"Ah… speaking of that…" Something in Dumbledore's tone prompted Harry to look at the aging Headmaster… to see he'd backed away from everyone, wand in his hand. A sorrowful expression was on his face. "We can not allow this knowledge to leave here. If Riddle ever learns what we know about his Horcruxes…" He shook his head sadly even as he raised his wand to point towards the gathered group. "For the Greater Good, he must never learn we know… _OBLIV…_"

The incantation was cut off by two separate, but related, events. Dumbledore had clearly not kept track of where Daniel Granger was. The former soldier had acted, his hands seizing the elderly wizards either side of his wrist before violently twisting it. The sickening 'crack' of the older man's wrist breaking echoed throughout the room. The Order were stunned as their leader fell to his knees, cradling his broken wrist. Daniel reached down and picked up the wand from where Dumbledore had dropped it, before pulling sharply on the back of his head, forcing Dumbledore to look up at his clearly furious expression.

"Don't you EVER try to cast a spell on my niece again! I don't know just what you intended, but you will not succeed!"

Harry was fuming, his own wand now out. "I think he was planning on obliviating us, literally wiping the last few minutes from our minds, so we'd forget what had just happened."

"Or worse, he'd wipe a heck of a lot more…" Lily growled, her own wand out and pointed at Snape.

Harry breathed deeply. "Regardless, he does have point. Though as normal, he thinks only of what's convenient for himself, believing only he knows what's best." Harry slowly turned to look at the rest of the Order. "What you just saw here today can _not _leave this room! This is the key to taking Voldemort down, his one weakness. He must not learn that we know his secret."

"But memory charms, Ablus?" McGonagall was glaring at the Headmaster.

"It is the only way, Minerva." He responded quietly, though the whole Order heard him. "As Harry has realised, we must not let Riddle know we know his secret. If he were to learn that we have discovered about those… _things_…" He shook his head in sadness. "It must be done."

"Too bad we can't hide the fact we know his secret just like we hide this house…" Tracy muttered.

Lily gasped before spinning to face the younger witch. "Of course, the Fidelius! We can use it to hide our knowledge of his Horcruxes!"

Harry looked to her. "Can you cast the charm mum?"

Lily paused to think for a moment. "I'll need a couple of others to help, but yes, I can."

"Harry, wait!" Dumbledore groaned from his position on the floor. "I have much research into this subject in my Office! If you do this…"

"We'll just let you in on the secret then." Harry cut him off. "Then you can share with us _everything_ you know." He looked at the Headmaster sternly, who only nodded in acquiescence.

"I hope every agrees with this?" Harry looked around at the Order. One by one, the others all nodded, all understanding the stakes.

* * *

Lily worked quickly to find an acceptable way to phrase the secret, and with Hermione and Fleur assisting cast the charm, making Harry the secret keeper. Once done, he looked about the gathered Order. Slowly the members began to return to their homes, except those Harry asked to stay a moment, which included Bill, Moody, Shackbolt and McGonagall. Then he shared the secret, before facing the Headmaster again.

"Headmaster… I'm too angry with you right now to deal with you. You make progress… then try to take advantage of our trust. We'll be talking about both this and several other things later, once I've calmed down enough. Remove yourself from my house, right now."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when he looked over the formidable array of people glaring at him. The fact that Minerva was one of them dug into his gut. She who had been his strongest supporter now followed another. Sighing in defeat and pain, he slowly stood before exiting via the Floo. Once the flames faded to their normal colour McGonagall shivered.

"The nerve of that man! Harry, do you have share room for me to stay tonight? I don't think I can sleep in the castle tonight… not without blowing his head off!"

Harry smiled wearily. "There's always a place for you Professor." He looked around at his family. "Let's go home."

One by one they left, leaving Grimmuald Place in darkness… though now a shadow had been lifted from the decrepit old building.

* * *

**A/N:** There we are. I may rewrite the end at a later date, but for now this'll do. Next chapter I intent to jump to the end of July... for some fun, laughter and love ;)

**EDIT:** Taking in the reviews thus far, I've done a word switch near the start, and added a few lines to address a few points raised.


	37. Hail the Lord

**A/N: **A thousand apologies to everyone about the lateness of this chapter. I hit a wall that I could not find a way around: I had to bash through. To make up though, this chapter is one of the longer ones. Nearly cut it in two at one point, but managed to get a lot written once I broke through that wall, so I got everything I wanted in here. Now, without futher ado...

* * *

Harry stretched as he awoke, a yawn opening his mouth wide. For a moment he was puzzled at the lack of a warm body next to him; it was surprising how quickly he got used to having a bed partner. Then he remembered what Daphne had said last night, and he eagerly turned his head to look at the self-updating calendar by the bed. July 31st. Grinning happily, he allowed his head to sink back down onto the pillows as he let his thoughts roam back over the last month.

It had certainly been a roller coaster of a month. Things had happened thick and fast since the Will, with little time to reflect and comprehend. After the… tense, Order meeting last week, it had taken almost a whole day for all of them to calm down. Daniel Granger had, in fact, been the last to cool off, and had made extensive use of the training dummies that the Manor had. Had, being the operative word. He'd demolished several to the point that not even Dobby could put them back together. The display had, however, not repulsed Harry like he'd at first thought it would. Instead, it made the former soldier more human. Proved that he was not just a killer, a weapon honed by war and drill.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he recalled the audience that the ex-soldier had gathered as he worked off his anger. He'd started off demonstrating some combat moves that the teens could use themselves for now, but it was clear that he'd had to let go. Unsurprisingly, it was after one of the twins – Harry was still unsure as to which one it was who had cast the spell - had transfigured the dummy to look like Snape while Daniel's back was turned. His reaction had been… violent. And severe.

Hence why they now had to replace three dummies.

The twins had blanched at the violence that Daniel had unleashed… while Hermione and Daphne had blushed at the language that escaped his lips as he tore the Snape image apart. As the former soldier had moved onto the next one, Lily had pulled the two young men aside. From the sounds Harry had over heard, she was giving them a lecture about pranks, the time and place for such antics. Both had returned rather withdrawn, and quiet. In fact, the pair had been subdued for the rest of the day. And when they came back the next day there had been much less of their normal skylarking attitude.

Had she known, Molly would have been green-red with envy. Lily had done something in one ten minute lecture that she had been trying – and failing – to do in nearly sixteen years.

But the most interesting person in the group had been Narcissa, who'd watched Daniel with intense interest. She hadn't looked away when he'd ripped the head off the one dummy; even Harry had found himself flinching away from that, as the dummies were not just wooden blocks, but made to semi-realistically model the human bodies internal structure. Towards the end, Harry had begun to think that the former Mrs Malfoy's interests were turning… carnal, towards the soldier. Harry snorted. He certainly was the complete opposite of her former husband!

Harry was also pleased with the way his relationships with – as Victor had called them – 'his young ladies' was going. He'd started retiring earlier, allowing for more time to snuggle and talk. His relationship with Hermione was stronger than ever. She was still his conscious and moral guide, along with being the one to turn to when he did not understand or know something. But the addition of her as a lover really improved things. She was able to put up such a prim and proper front at school... but now he _knew_ it was a front. Here, at Potter Manor, surrounded by close friends and family, she had relaxed and lightened up.

Susan had proved to be surprisingly sensual and passionate during their 'together time'. She really liked to snuggle, and had insisted on him spooning her during 'their night'. He'd been a little tentative at first, but Susan had proven to be stubborn about and had almost sat on him, wiggling her rear against his crotch. The predictable reaction had only prompted her to giggle... before dragging his hand around her body and tucking it inside her nightgown. She'd sighed pleasurably as the heavy fullness of her breast had settled into his palm, muttering something about how Daphne was right. After that, at least for Harry, awkward start, the pair of them had talked softly for over an hour. He'd praised her for standing up to Daniel Grangers training the best, while she had reiterated that he was not at fault for what happened to Kreacher. It had been clear even in that small window of time that the old elf would not have been able to cope with the family idea they were building. Better that he died happy.

Both Daphne and Fleur had been withdrawn after they returned from Grimmuald Place, and Harry had stuck to them for the rest of the evening. He knew, all too well, the kind of dark places one's thoughts could wander too in such a mood. They had actually broken Hermione's cycle that night, as both had cuddled up next to him during the night. Daphne was back to her normal self in the morning, and Harry found he was falling in love with her dry wit and grace a little more each day. Her devious mind was responsible for several of the more subtle ploys and ideas they had planned for their campaign against the Death Eaters. A verbal sparing match with her was always a joy to behold and participate in, and her use of innuendo was unsurpassed. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he recalled some of the dorm-room talks Ron, Semus and Dean had engaged in. Ranking up the various women – including some of the professors – in terms of how 'hot' they were. Unsurprisingly, Lavender had often come out top, due Harry thought to their more often contact with her. Daphne, despite being a Slytherin, had always been up there in the top half-dozen, which had caused Ron no small amount of discomfort. Now, Harry could say how hot she really was, from first-hand experience.

Not that he would ever betray her – or any of the others – like that.

Fleur had taken a bit longer to recover; as she explained it, the emotional aura of Horcruxes was like poison to someone like her, with her deep connection to passions and feelings. Touching the locket, however brief and inadvertently, had been a major shock to her system, and it had taken time to regain the balance. Being around Harry and the others had helped speed it along, as the positive emotions and feelings shared between them acted as a counter-agent to the darkness that lingered from the horcrux.

But more importantly he was starting to see beyond the front that Fleur, often without realising it, put up. Much like Hermione it was to protect herself. Far too many wizards looked at her, and only saw a 'ditzy blonde'… when they were not fantasising about laying her. The cold, aloof persona both cooled passions and allowed her to exercise her wit. Harry however had always known that there had to be more to her than an obviously attractive body. She hadn't been declared Champion for her school just for looks, after all. There was plenty of raw talent and ability lying within her figure… some of which she admitted to not ever having tapped, as it was based in the Veela part of her, of which she had at times been uncomfortable with. She had admitted that, in certain circumstances, the Allure was useful to distract and muddle thoughts, and the pyromagics were handy in general. Many would-be lechers had backed off when threatened with a fireball shoved into an intimate spot. But she'd never pursued the training to allow her to take the more… bestial, form that came with her blood. A full-blooded Veela could switch back and forth without effort, but for someone like herself, they needed guidance. After their talks however, she had agreed to at least consider it. If she never needed the ability, well… as Daphne had said, 'Better to have it, and not need it, than the other way around.'

A stray thought came to him then. Over the last week, Fleur's English had improved noticeably. She'd been spending a lot of time with Hermione and Emma, both whom, Harry had noted, were quite particular with language. It apparently helped that Emma was fluent in French herself, and Hermione could 'get by'. Between them, Fleur's English had become much less accented.

His relationship with Tracy was still in the early stages, but already they had a firm understanding and compassion for each other. They were alike in several ways, preferring to remain quiet and listen instead of being in the centre of things. While she freely admitted that she was not as academically as bright as the others, she was more in tune with 'common sense'. When she did speak out however, she was bluntly honest about things, very much calling things as she saw them. It had helped immensely with their plans, as she could be relied on to call them out when they started getting far too elaborate and complex. She reminded them of the goal: Destroy the Supremacist Movement, of which Voldemort was the most visible and high profile figurehead. They were hoping that taking him and his followers out would send the Movement reeling, giving them the chance to get a shot at the core issues that promoted the Movement, and maybe effect change on a cultural scale. It was ambitious, but as she had laughing said, two of their number came from the House of the Ambitious, at least at first. With two more of the Brave and Honourable to keep their morals straight, they should not go far wrong.

But now was not the time to think about such matters. No, today was his birthday! And already it was the best he'd ever had! Just the knowledge that he was surrounded by people who cared for and loved him made it better than any before in his life.

Almost jumping out of bed, he rushed through a quick shower before dressing in simple jeans and a short-sleeved polo shirt. A pair of warm slippers finished the ensemble before he moved to leave his bedroom.

Outside in the Potter's private space, the sound of the door opening made Lily look up. A warm, loving smile formed on her face as she stood up. "Morning."

Harry beamed as he walked towards her. "Morning mum." As he closed she opened her arms, and Harry accepted the obvious invitation. He stepped close and wrapped his arms round her, her own folding across his back. It was a slight shock for him to realise that he was almost the same height as his mother now; he was easily able to place his head next to hers, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"Happy birthday son." She said softly, holding him close but not tight, prompting a sigh of pure contentment from him. This was what he had been missing for all those years. Just a simple hug from a parent, one who would always support and believe in him. He'd longed and dreamed so often about his mothering holding him like she was now. When he'd seen other students being greeted by their families after term he'd tried to ignore the small threads of jealousy that had flared up when he'd witnessed them receive hugs from their parents. Now though, he could just be. Within his mothers embrace, he could just be Harry, not the future Lord Potter, not a multi-married man, and certainly not the Boy-Who-Lived. With her, he had not need to hide his feelings, protect himself. She would never harm him, for he was her son.

For Lily, the hug was tinged bittersweet. While she'd been 'hitching a ride' in his head, she'd not really been there for him. He'd had no one to turn to when younger, and suffered for it. She'd missed out on so much… Seeing things from his point of view had been better than not being there at all, but she'd still never see him take his first steps, watch him as he played… While there was that unmistakeable mother-son bond between them, she was fully aware that she was hugging a young man. She'd never experienced holding him as a toddler, showing him the world…

Lily privately swore that she would be there for Harry for the rest of their lives. No matter what, she'd be there for him.

Relaxing her hug, she began to draw back, prompting Harry to follow her actions. She smiled at him, marvelling again at the way his face was almost pure James, but had hints of herself in the mix. The eyes were the obvious marks, but there were slight changes in his when compared to the man she'd loved and married. A small softening of the cheekbones, a fraction more rounded in the chin… Ruthlessly she forced down the idle thought of what a daughter she and James could have had would look like.

There were no point dwelling on that painful thought.

"Come on. Everyone's waiting downstairs." At the flicker of reluctance in his eyes Lily smiled. "Oh don't worry so Harry. No surprise party, and we only invited your friends… true friends."

Harry's stomach was a swarm of butterflies as he followed his mum down the stairs to the Potter's living space, a coil of dread joining them as they reached the doors that opened out onto the Grand Hall. Seeing his expression, Lily smiled warmly at him. "Come on. It's your day."

Nodding jerkily, Harry stepped through onto the small balcony landing, looking out along the length of the hall. Allowing his eyes to drop, he saw that everyone was gathered at the foot of the main stairs, looking up at him. The spread of faces made him freeze for a moment, before he started to recognise them. Hermione, Susan, Daphne, Fleur and Tracy – all dressed in nice summer dresses of varying cuts and modesty - were all in the front row, with Neville and Hannah on one end while Luna was on the other, her dragon once more with his little head next to hers. Clinging to her shoulder and back. Then there were the adults he knew, including Amelia, McGonagall, and the Grangers… including the recently arrived Richard Granger, Daniels son. He was on an arranged 'year of absence' from the RAF, having only just finished his flight training but as of yet had not been posted to a squadron.

A knot of bright red marked the four Weasleys; Bill, Fred, George and Ginny. There was Remus standing next to the Tonks. And with McGonagall…

"'Ere e is! Happy birthday Harry!"

Harry felt his mouth split into a grin. 'Hagrid! I didn't know you were coming." He called back as he started down the stairs to join the throng.

Hagrid shuffled his feet a little. "Thank Professor McGonagall and your Mum, Harry." He looked over Harry towards Lily, who was making her way more sedately down the stairs after her son. "Ya could 'ave knocked me down with a feather when I 'eard you were still living Lil's. If only…" He sniffled. Ever since the revelations regarding Harry's placement with, and treatment at, the Dursleys had come to light, Hagrid had been very worried about and ashamed with his role in those events.

Lily smiled a little sadly. "I don't blame you in any way Hagrid." She said softly as she reached the floor. "You trusted & believed in him, and he abused that trust." Reaching up on tip toes she just managed to pull the half-giants head down enough to kiss him on the cheek. "And thank you for being the one to free Harry from Petunia's family."

Hagrid blused. "Well… would'a done it for anyone, really…"

"Nonsense." Lily laughed lightly. "But lets not think about that any more. Today, it's all about Harry." She turned to look at her son, who was at that moment being hugged by all five of 'his ladies'.

"You've got a good lad there, and no mistake." Hagrid commented, beaming at the blushing young man.

Lily smiled warmly, feeling immensely proud. If only James could be here to see his son…

Movement out of the corner of her eyes drew her attention. Turning her head, she saw Racknor's image finish forming. The dragon spirit looked at Harry before looking at her. She nodded in response, understanding what the spirit was thinking of.

Clearing her throat Lily stepped forwards. "I know we were going to give the presents in the dining hall, but I think you need to open this one now." With Harry's attention on her Lily held out a small package, a dark red box held closed with a thin gold ribbon. After a nod from her Harry took the box, before hesitantly opening it. Lifting the lid, a gleaming solid gold ring was revealed, resting in a bed of velvet.

Daphne gasped. "Is that…?"

"The Lord of the House of Potter's signet ring." Lily answered her unfinished question. "The unmistakeable proof of being Lord Potter. It would have come to you in the fullness of time anyway, Harry. But it's your now. You're ready for it."

Wordlessly, Harry gently lifted the ring out, a look of awe on his face. Susan took the box from his unresisting hand. He looked at it, letting the heavy gold roll about his palm. He looked up at her. "I… what must I do?" He asked quietly. "I can't believe it'd just be as simple as putting this one…"

"_Almost, Master Harry."_ Racknor intoned, making Harry jump, as he was suddenly made aware of the spirit's presence. _"Stand on this keystone, then place the ring on your right hand. Then you will claim your birthright. Become what you were born to be… not the Prophesied 'Chosen One', but Lord Potter of England, servant to the Crown, and Defender of all Britain."_ After he spoke the dragon faded away, though a column of thin mist remained.

Nodding, Harry took a deep breath before stepping onto the etched stone circle, into the misty form of the dragon spirit. His vision greyed out a little, but he could still see the others gathered around. His 'young ladies' were closest, each showing some concern and worry over this 'ritual'.

Looking down at his hand, Harry turned the Lord's ring of the House of Potter over in his hand. The heavy gold band looked as solid as the mountains, while the shallow gems bracketing the seal gleamed with inner light. Tilting the ring slightly, he watched as the shadows within the seal shifted and moved, allowing him to see all the details of the seal. Central to the design was a straight edged, narrowed hilted sword, held point down. A Roman Gladius. Either side was a rampart dragon, one foreclaw of each resting on the swords hilt. Each had its' mouth closed, while long horns jutted out from the back of their heads, mirroring the Royal Dragon himself. Behind them was a shield, but not a typical medieval one. No, again the Roman influence was there, as this shield was straight sided, with the top and bottom edge curved slightly in matching arcs. From the top left a broad band ran down across the shield, behind the dragon to reach the bottom centre, before it rose up to the top right. Behind the pommel was a twelve-pointed star.

Across the bottom of the seal was a scroll image. While the seal itself did not carry the words, as it was too small to actually write the Latin inscription out, Harry knew what would be there.

'_Defensores __Vita__, __Propugnatores __de__lux'_. 'Defenders of Life, Champions of Light'.

Looking up, he saw everyone was watching him. He met his mothers eyes, and Lily gave him a small nod.

Setting his jaw, Harry slid the ring onto his right left ring finger… before he changed his mind.

For a second nothing happened, before warmth started coming from the ring. It felt… safe, homey. Looking up once more, Harry was stunned to see other shapes form between him and his friends. Ghost-like, they faded in like wraiths, grey and indistinct. Yet he felt no malice, no threat despite the gathering crowd. Mostly the figures wore, from what he could see, tunics and robes, many with swords at their waists.

Then another figure emerged, more distinct from the others. Only in part from his much more outlandish dress. Tight breaches & mid-calf boots encased his legs, disappearing under a very loose shirt. A long coat was draped over his shoulders, almost but not quite hiding the hilt of the sword and the large pistol hanging from his belt. Harry's eyes widened when he saw the weapons. They were more like the classic 'pirate' weapons than the long swords the others carried. Looking up, he noted the tri-corn hat, before realising the face was clear enough for him to recognise.

It was the face of Captain Richard Potter, the privateer who'd rescued his future wife from a gang of ruthless pirates… and avenged the loss of his previous ship.

"_These must all be the previous Lord Potters!'_ Harry thought as a couple more figures faded in. _'Which… means…'_

Another figure appeared, again dressed differently from the others. Instead of the more modern cut of robes the last two had worn, this man wore a uniform. And not just any uniform, but the dress uniform he'd seen in the old war movies about the Battle of Britain. The one worn by the RAF of the time.

Charlus Potter, his grandfather, nodded at him, just as another figure came into view.

Harry felt his throat go dry. "Dad?"

The image of James Potter smiled. _"Harry, my son…"_

Harry reached out, but his hand only passed right through his father. Seeing the crestfallen look on his face, James sighed.

"_Harry, don't give in to grief. You've made me proud son. Despite everything, you've never given up being who you are. You've always gotten back up after every fall. I wish I could have been able to pass the ring on to you myself, but event's have been against us.'_

"Dad… how can I do this?" Harry asked softly.

"_Believe me Harry, I asked the same question when I took up the ring. But I know that you'll not only do fine, you'll bring greater glory and honour to our family than any other before you."_ He waved to the gathering behind him. _"We'll always be with you Harry. _I'll_ always be with you. And when it's time for you to pass on the ring to your eldest son, we'll be waiting to welcome you to our ranks, where we can all talk and share old times, and watch over your many, many children." _James was actually smirking, his eyes dancing. _"Five stunningly beautiful, scarily intelligent wives. And I had my hands full with just one…"_

Harry chuckled, but quickly sobered. "Can't you stay, just a little while?"

James' image shook its' head. _"I'm sorry son, but we're only here now by the power of the ancestral ring you now wear. A last chance for former Lords to give advice to the next. But all you need to know is that all of us are rooting for you. I know you'll win, and send that snake faced bastard to hell. Once he's gone…"_ James smirked once more. _"Enjoy life Harry. You've more than earned it. Listen to your future wives. And take care of Lily for me."_

Harry nodded, unheeding of the tears that ran down his cheeks. "I will."

James smiled, then slowly drew his wand. The others all drew their blades, with only Charlus drawing a wand.

"_All hail the new Lord of House Potter, Harry James!"_ James Potter bellowed.

'_HAIL!"_ The cry of several dozen tongues was almost deafening.

Harry then felt the warmth of the ring spread throughout him, washing over him. A sense of completeness filled him, and he lifted his head and pushed his shoulders back.

Somehow, he knew the magic of the House of Potter had accepted him.

Now… he was Lord Harry Potter.

The mist faded away, leaving Harry alone, yet he knew, with absolute certainty, that his ancestors were watching over him, cheering him on.

"Harry?" Daphne asked worriedly, seeing the tears on his cheeks.

"I saw…" Harry's voice was choked up. "I saw my father… for just a few moments…"

He stepped off the keystone, and wordlessly his family wrapped him in another group hug, Lily hugging him from behind. After a few moments, during which most of the others gathered took the opportunity to brush away any wetness in their own eyes, Harry relaxed his grip and straightened a little, prompting his family to ease up on the hug. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "Now, did someone mention presents?" He grinned.

"Oh! Such a… boy!" Fleur exclaimed, but her tone and smile made it crystal clear that she was only joking.

As group the moved into the dining hall. Harry looked eagerly at the collection of wrapped gifts on the main table, but Lily laughingly took a hold of his shoulder and guided him to a chair across from them. It was slightly raised up with a large table next to it. With a light push she sat him down in it, still smiling. Harry grumbled for a moment, before he looked up… to see that nearly everyone had moved to the table and picked up a present, and were now forming a rough queue in front of him.

Astoria Greengrass was first up. She looked up at him with a gaze that was older than her years. Focusing on her, Harry was struck at the subtle differences between her and her older sister. Astoria had more straw-coloured hair, with a more elfin face. Suddenly an impish smile emerged on her visage, lighting her face up. "Harry, you've freed us from our uncle. I've not seen Daphne so happy before. So free. So thank you Harry, and Happy Birthday." She offered up a long and wide but thin package. Harry accepted it, but held onto her hand, stopping her from pulling back. At her sharp look – one which she'd clearly been copying Daphne's, but had yet to master – Harry leaned forward slightly.

"No Astoria, I should be thanking her and your family. You accepted me, and she risked herself to help." Her cute glare transformed into a dazzling smile, and she jumped forwards to give him a hug. Harry held her gently, relishing the warmth and trust, before placing a quick kiss on her forehead before letting go. Blushing crimson, Astoria moved back as he tore the packaging away, to reveal a large slab of Honeydukes finest chocolate. Lily smiled as she gently took it from his hands, wagging one finger at him as she did.

"Don't let me find you've eaten it all at once young man!"

Harry grinned in reply. "Okay, I won't."

Lily, along with the rest, laughed easily. "Oh, don't think I don't hear the double meaning there Harry!"

Laughing freely, Harry turned to face the next person. Katie Bell was smiling like the others, but it only just touched her eyes. In truth, the family were worried about her. Most of them knew about how dark one's thoughts could get when one lost close family. Daniel was already watching her, trying to find ways for her to unleash her pain in a safe setting. A rogue out for revenge was not a good thing to have at your side during a fight. The package she held was larger and uneven. "Hey Harry. Thanks for… well, you know. Happy birthday." Taking the package, Harry opened the end to find a thin-looking leather jacket. At his look of confusion Katie explained. "It's a set of Quidditch leathers. You were them under your robes. Helps soften blows without weighing you down. I figured with all drama in our matches, most of it centred on you, you'd best have some protection."

Harry beamed. "Thanks Katie. Hermione would never let me live it down if I got hurt playing."

"Just Hermione, Harry?" Susan called out, arms folded across her chest, though there was a smile on her lips.

Harry blushed a little, then passed the gift to his mum. As Lily set the thoughtful gift down he stepped forward and drew the older girl into a hug. "If you want to talk Katie, we're all here for you… when you're ready."

A tear formed in the corner of her eye as she nodded. "Thanks Harry."

As the chaser moved away, she was eclipsed by the shadow of Harry's first friend. "'Ello Harry! 'Appy birthday!" Hagrid boomed, eyes twinkling merrily.

"Glad you could make it Hagrid." Hary replied, smiling up at the half-giant. From the sidelines Daniel Granger watched the two. He'd been surprised to lay eyes on Hagrid; guy was pushing ten feet tall! Yet, despite his massive size and implied strength, the man was certainly a child at heart. You only had to talk to him to see that. And the way he'd reacted when he'd laid eyes on Luna's pet… It was like showing a five-year-old into a sweets store then turning him loose. Hagrid had been cooing – cooing! – over the small dragon, which only just filled one of his huge hands.

"Sorry I couldn't wrap 'em Harry." Hagrid said apologetically as she swung a modest sack off his shoulder. "Ain't one of me strengths…"

"That's okay Hagrid." Harry said as he accepted the sack. The weight confirmed what he'd thought straight off: Hagrids infamous rock cakes. Lily was not any help, as she was clearly hiding her small laugh with one hand. Idly Harry wondered if they still had any of the guns off Captain Potters ship. Rock cakes would make ideal ammunition…

Amelia Bones was next. "I thought you could make good use of this." She said softly, offering her package. Pulling the wrapping off, Harry discovered an intricately woven leather-looking belt, with a number of similar pouches already threaded along its length. "The belt is Dragon hide, as are the pouches, which have been enchanted to hold much more than normal, plus are unbreakable and have anti-theft charms on them. The buckle…" She waved a finger at the broad ellipse of finely wrought metal. "…has engraved runes to form a full body shield spell at a wand tap. One of my warrior ancestors had it made, back in the Dark Ages. It's sat in the Bones Vault ever since. Knowing what I do know about you, I thought you'd be able to put it to good use."

Harry looked up at her, jaw dropping. "Ma'am, you really shouldn't…"

Amelia waved him off. "Harry, I know what you're about to say. But be honest, you're far more likely to be in danger than I."

Harry had no refute for that as Luna stepped forwards.

"This'll go well with Madam Bones gift." She said quietly, offering a small, soft package. "Happy Birthday Harry. It's not much, but…"

On impulse Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Luna into his lap. The little Terror squawked and hissed at the action, but Harry bade him no mind, instead hugging the smaller blond girl. Luna smiled as she replied in kind, soaking in the comfort that Harry was offering. Feeling the emotions within her settle and brighten, the Terror crooned and purred. "You're family now Luna." Harry said gently. "I never had gifts for any birthday before Hogwarts. No matter what you get, it'll always be perfect." Using his free hand, he opened the wrapper to find another pouch, though this one had a very fine and soft furry texture. The opening however had a set of sharp looking fangs though…

"It's a moleskin pouch Harry. Most secure place to put things. Anyone not keyed in will get a nasty nip, freezing them till you release them."

Chuckling, Harry hugged her once more before letting her slide off his lap. "Thanks Luna. I know just what to keep in here…"

"I would hope that it would be nothing that breaks school rules, Mister Potter…" Harry looked up to see Professor McGonagall standing before him, a pale shadow of her infamous glare on her face. However, the light in her eyes and the twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her true feelings. "…But given both who your father was, and your previous years, I fear that would be a wasted hope."

Harry shrugged awkwardly. "Sorry Professor. I don't go looking for trouble on purpose…"

"…It finds you all by its self." McGonagall sighed. Then a small smile formed. "Despite everything you've been up to and gotten involved in, Harry, I'm proud to have you in my House." Harry flushed, but couldn't get the words out. To help him out she held out her present. "Happy Birthday Mister Potter." Taking the package, Harry could instantly tell it was a book. Peeling back the wrapping, he quickly found the title on the leather bound book _'Advanced Animagi: The Secrets to Bringing out Your Inner Beasts True Power'_

"I'll cover the basics in detail later this week Harry, but I thought you should have that now. It's intended for those who have already become proficient." She hesitated for a moment, then drew an envelope from one pocket. "I… also had a meeting with the Headmaster just before I left. He asked me to deliver this to you." She paused for a moment. "I have to say, he was not looking as well as he normally does. I think you're finally getting through to him… maybe."

Harry raised an eyebrow, curious and wary, as he took the letter. Seeing his wary look, McGonagall was quick to assure him. "I did warn him however that if he had placed any charms or curses on that parchment, I would drive his wand so far up his ass that he'd be casting from his mouth."

Laughter rose at the image, easing the tension that had arising at the Headmasters name. Deciding to open it later, Harry set it aside. Before he could turn to face the next person however, there was a 'pop'.

"Is Master Harry receiving presents yet?"

Laughing happily, Harry knelt down to put himself closer to Dobby's level. Looking into his loyal friends eyes, Harry once again marvelled at the changes that had overcome the little guy. Gone was the reed thin, beaten and sickly looking slave that had appeared in his prison at Privett Drive. Now before him was an elf of proportions that he doubted any wizard had seen in centuries. Dobby was now over three feet tall, significantly larger than any other Elf Harry had seen. His entire body had filled out, with lightly defined muscle tone. Instead of the few thin strands he had when they first met, Dobby now had a full head of charcoal black hair, cut in a style that mirrored Harry's own. But the eyes… the eyes were the same. Those same eyes looked at him with devotion and a touch of Hero-Worship. Held between his hands was a wrapped package, which he now offered to Harry.

"Dobby made and charmed them himself, Great Master Lord Harry Potter Sir!"

"Its just Harry, Dobby." Harry replied as he started to attempt to unwrap the package. Dobby had really done it neatly and tightly. "I'm still me, whatever title they force on me." He missed his mother's smile of pride at that.

At last the wrapping came open, to reveal over a dozen socks. Not one of them matched. Harry heard Lily tutting quietly, but he focused on Dobby. "Thank you Dobby."

"Dobby will always be there for Master Harry." 'pop'

Harry was about to stand up again, but movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention, and he turned his head to see the youngest two Greengrasses, the twins Carla and Cynthia, had stepped up. As he pivoted to face them, he was struck at how the pair of them would likely become stunning beauties in a few short years. He could see a lot of Daphne's elegance and poise in both already, and with those eyes… it would take a heart of stone to resist these two little angels. They were both wearing very pretty summer dresses suitable for girls of their age – unlike the dress that Fleur was wearing, that exposed the whole of her upper back – with their hair brushed out till it shone. Unlike the Weasley twins however he could tell these two apart… just about. It was in the small details, the way they held themselves, that set them apart.

Carla held out a large envelope. "This is from both of us."

Cynthia nodded. "I did the drawing, Carla the colouring."

"It's not much…"

'_Oh, these two are going to be real heart-breakers when they…' _Harry's thought trailed off however when he slid the card from within it's envelope. Roughly A5 in size, it featured an incredibly detailed and accurate drawing of four people. He recognised himself stood in the centre, with Daphne stood behind him, her arms around his neck as she cuddled into his back. His own hands however were lowered, holding the hands of the two smaller figures either side.

The two who were stood before him right now.

But it was the words above and below the incredible image that really struck him.

'_Happy Birthday, Worlds Best Big Brother'_

Looking up at them, he spread his arms once more, and the two stepped into his embrace and hugged him tightly. Their simple endearment meant the world to him. The clinking of heels prompted him to look up, to see the girls mother Eleanor Greengrass stood behind them, a warm, happy smile on her face. Gently releasing the twins from his embrace, Harry stood up to face their mother on the same level. The two girls moved back to cuddle into her thighs. Just alongside Mrs Greengrass was Lord Greengrass, who now stepped forwards.

"Harry… you've done so much for my family this summer. You've sheltered us after our lives haven been destroyed, helped us keep our family fortunes out of a madman's hands. But most of all, you've given us hope. The debt our family owes you can never be fully repaid."

"Please, there's no need…" Harry began, but Henrick Greengrass waved him into silence.

"No Harry, I have to. The goblins are not the only beings around that value honour. My ancestors – all of Viking descent – would turn in their graves if I failed to honour my House's debts." He explained. "Thus, as Lord Greengrass, I offer my House as Vassals to the House of Potter."

Harry was stunned, as clearly were several others. To make such an offer… Harry's first thought was to refuse, but then he remembered some of the texts he'd been reading of late. A freely made offer of becoming a Vassal to another house was a Serious event. If he turned it down, there would be repercussions onto Daphne's family for generations. The offer was already recorded in the Ministry; all that was missing was his response. If he turned them down House Potter would see it as a lack of trust and faith in House Greengrass on House Potter's behalf. As a primarily trading Family, House Greengrass was dependent on its reputation. If word got out that House Potter didn't trust them… and it would get out…

There was really only one choice he could make.

Harry straightened up. "As Lord Potter, I accept the offer of House Greengrass, with the offer to release House Greengrass when ever requested by the Current Lord Greengrass."

Henrick smiled. "I agree. So mote it be." As he finished a gong sounded, reverberating throughout the manor. On the wall above the doorway the Potter coat of arms was displayed, with a broad empty space beneath it. Now, another coat of arms faded into view, the stonework shifted to give it definition, in that empty band.

Amelia, having watched the Greengrass arms appear, frowned in thought, before stepping forwards once more. "Lord Potter, The House of Bones also offers itself as Vassals to the House of Potter."

Rolling his eyes, Harry sighed. "I accept the offer of the House of Bones as well, with the same proviso as for the House of Greengrass." Once more the gong sounded, and on the mantle the Greengrass crest moved sideways, till it was only half under the Potter crest. In the empty space next to it another crest formed, this time shaping into the coat of arms for the Bones family. "I hope that's it?" Harry asked lightly, though there was a note of exasperation in his voice.

"Oh, and I had this wonderful batch of dragon-hide earmarked for your use Harry." Eleanor said with a false tone of mourning. "It came a couple days ago. Very well aged and treated. Flexible and yet still very resistant. Perfect for making clothing that'll turn heads as well as hexes."

"All right, enough all ready." Harry blushed as he stopped her with raised arms in surrender.

Eleanor smiled before stepping forwards enough to be able to gently kiss his forehead. "It's not just for you Harry. I would hope that you'd ensure that all your future wives were equally clad. I don't want to see Daphne hurt…"

Harry nodded, a firm look in his eyes. "They'd have to get through me first."

"And would apply to all of them?" Emma Granger called out teasingly as she and Nathan stepped forwards. The Greengrasses drew back to give the Grangers space.

Harry looked up at their faces. "Of course."

"Right answer Harry." Nathan said, holding out a wrapped box. When Harry had finished tearing the paper off, he opened it to find three sets of glasses… without any glass in them. At his confused expression Nathan explained. "We've seen how battered those old glasses are Harry. Their not going to last much longer, even with all your magic. Those there are three of the best that money can buy. The first is intended as an everyday set, something you'd wear around the house or on a casual basis. The next is for formal, classy events. Ones where you want to make an impression." Now he looked closer, Harry could see how the second set of frames were much more finely crafted, the hinges much more discreet and sleek. All three sets were similar in style to his current battered, charity shop pair, only much better made. And obviously, brand new.

"And the third?" He asked, noticing how the last set had thicker arms and rims.

Nathan hesitated for a moment. "High shock resistant, toughened frame. For sports and the like." Harry nodded in understand. Combat frames.

Emma now took over. "There's no glass in them yet because we don't know your prescription. So there's some vouchers in there that'll help pay for a professional eye exam, but also a set of lens for each frame."

Harry choked up, touched at the thoughtful gift. The Dursleys had basically told him 'Find a set that works in that bin!' and left it at that. Hermione's parents had gone to extreme lengths to canter for his condition. 'Thank you' seemed such an inappropriate and measly answer to what they had done for him.

But it was all he could offer.

Seeing his state, Emma smiled and wrapped an arm around him, drawing him to her so she could kiss his forehead. "You've already given us something far more valuable Harry. You've made Hermione happy. That… is priceless."

Neville and Hannah waited for Harry to get his composure back before they stepped forwards. At a gesture from him, Hannah took the lead. "Harry… I owe you an apology for Second year. I should have never listened to those people…"

Harry waved her off. While the general attitude of the school towards him during that 'Heir of Slytherin business had hurt a little, in the grand scheme of things it was a minor matter. "You didn't know me that well then Hannah."

She blushed a little. "But still, I knew you were a nice boy, but they seemed so sure…" Taking a deep breath, she held out her present. "Happy Birthday Harry." Opening it enough to find another box of Honeydukes, Harry turned his head to look at Neville.

The other young man looked uncomfortable, but shouldered on. "Harry… I don't know how I would have coped with the pressures you've been under. I can only hope to be as good as you."

"You are Neville." Harry said, placing a had on his shoulder. "You're just as good as me. Let me tell you a secret: It could have been you who the Prophecy was about."

Neville shuddered. "No thanks Harry. I'm sorry, but that's one thing I don't want." After a round of nervous laughter, he settled and looked Harry back squarely. "You've never teased or picked on me Harry. You've always been supportive. If things had worked out different, then we would have been raised as brothers. I'd… I'd like to offer we make that formal, now. Blood brothers."

Motion out of the corner of his eye drew Harry's attention, and he twisted his head just enough to see Victor step up… with a sharp ritual knife laid out on the platter he held. "Well, as it seems my loyal butler has already provided what we need…" He replied, taking the knife from the tray. After a moments hesitation, he drew the blade quickly over his palm before offering the hilt to Neville, who repeated the action. They then clasped hands, pressing the cuts against each other.

"Brothers in blood. A hand raised against one is raised against us both." They both intoned together. "Our families, twins and allies, joined for ever." A reddish glow emanated from their clasped hands, sealing the oath and the mingling of their bloods. As the glow faded Harry felt… something within him settle. He could not put his finger on it, but he felt that his place in the world was more secure. The outward change in Neville was more noticeable. He stood up a little straighter, and he grinned at Harry before releasing his hand. Lily stepped up to seal the cuts in their hands, only to find the cuts had sealed by themselves. As Victor backed away with the knife, Neville wrapped an arm around Hannah.

"I'll be there with you Harry, when you end that bastard who took everything from us."

"We, Neville." Harry corrected. "When _we_, all of us, end him." Nodding in understanding, the two stepped aside.

Tonks stepped up, pausing a moment to look at Amelia. "Uh, boss? You might want to look away for a bit." She said with a light-hearted, easy tone before offering her gift to Harry. "I really shouldn't be giving you this, but you are certainly in need one of one Harry. You're just too much of a trouble magnet!" The gift was slim and narrow, prompting Harry's curiosity. Opening it up, he discovered a long strip of leather-looking material, with fastening straps at each end. "It's an Master Auror issue wand holster for your forearm Harry. Keep your wand in there, and no one's going to get it apart from you. One flick of your wrist and the wand will jump out into your hand. It's got the usual anti-summoning charms on it, and as it's made of Dragonhide, it's very resistant to damage. Owning one when your not an auror is, technically illegal…"

Harry winked at the young auror. "Well… I won't tell if you won't."

From the side Amelia Bones called out with laughter in her tone. "I'll send you the correct authorisation certificate tomorrow Harry. As Head of the DMLE, I have the power to issue those to whom I choose, if I can justify it. I think 'Voldemort's most wanted' is justification enough."

Remus chuckled as he approached. "I know Lily's going to skin me for this…" He pressed his gift into Harry's hands. When he peeled back the paper, he uncovered three separate books, all plain and un-embossed. "They're our notes from our Hogwarts years Harry. All our pranks, class notes, general thoughts and projects. We each had a copy. Sirius gave his to the Twins, and I know that James set was lost some time before you were born. You should have a set."

Harry opened the top most book, heedless of his mothers sigh of exasperation as he flicked through the pages of notes and scrawls. It was a muddle, but one he knew he'd enjoy working out. Already he could see there were four different sets of handwriting. "This is amazing Moony!"

Remus smiled before leaning forwards, bringing his head closer to Harry's. "I removed the secrecy charms over our animagus notes, and our work on making the Map. I thought you, of all people, should know how we did both." At Harry's look of amazement, Remus winked before both he and Tonks stepped back. As they did, Harry flipped the book closed, seeing the next two approaching.

"Oh oh… its the Hell's Carrots."

Fred & George beamed at him. "That's a new one Harrykins."

"Never heard that one before old bean."

"Perfect though."

"Indeed, brother of mine. Just like our gift…"

"…is the perfect accompaniment…"

"…to want Moony just gave you."

They passed over a small sack. Peering in tentatively, Harry could see several boxes, all with labels on them.

"Samples of our future wares Harry."

"The shop will be opening very soon."

"Thanks to Padfoot's gift."

"We've almost got a perfect item…"

"…To make sure that he lives on."

"As our noble benefactor…"

"…Feel free to have a pre-opening tour."

"Bring your ladies with you as well."

"A woman's touch is always handy…"

"…Even if not always wanted."

"That's not true Forge."

"I thought I was Forge?"

By now everyone was in stitches, with Harry having to clasp his stomach. "All right enough guys. We'll be happy to look around before you open your doors to the public." He shook his head as he passed the sack to Lily, who took it with obvious reluctance and care. "The magical world won't know what hit it."

"Exactly." Both twins said together, grinning devilishly.

Finally it was just his fiancés. Tracy stepped forwards quickly. "You got me out of a terrible fate Harry. Thank you, and Happy Birthday." She pressed her present into his hands while kissing his cheek, before she drew back, her cheeks flushed. Finding yet another box of Honeyduke's chocolate inside – caramel this time – Harry looked up to see the elegant Fleur stood before him. He was acutely aware of the rather minimalist summer dress she wore, which consisted of little more than two elongated, broad triangles for the top half, tied together at the back of her neck. The skirt was knee length, but very light and airy. But the radiant smile she was wearing drew his attention the most.

"'Arry… nearly two years ago you saved someone more precious to me than anyone or anything. When I thought I'd lost my sister forever…" She shivered, muttering something in French under her breath, before refocusing her attention on him. "It's is but a small thing, but I wish to replace what you lost that day." Harry frowned lightly at the small box she held out, trying to work out what she meant. Shrugging in confusion, Harry peeled back the wrapping to reveal… a box. But when he removed the lid he found inside an expensive looking watch, with a fully metal strap and stylish face. Picking it out of the setting, he hefted it in his hand. It felt solid, robust.

"I 'eard how your old one died while you were underwater. This one won't do that." Fleur moved so she was standing next to him, pressing herself against his side lightly. Her fingertip ran gracefully over the face as she continued. "It iz enchanted to run forever, and the face is charmed impenetrable." It was then he noticed that the heads of the watches hands were not standard arrowheads, but Fleur-de-lurs.

Smiling broadly, Harry wrapped his free arm around her waist, letting his fingers brush over the bare skin of her lower back as he did. As she emitted a tiny gasp in response he pulled her close. "Thanks Fleur, this is great!"

"Bon." Fleur chuckled before pressing a kiss to his lips briefly before easing out of his embrace.

Susan sashayed up him, smiling brightly. "I can't thank you enough from letting me and Auntie into your home and heart Harry. But I do hope to have many, many more enjoyable days… and nights, with you." She licked her lips. "Especially the nights." She said quietly, prompting a short coughing fit from Remus. Blushing as she realised that the werewolf had heard her, Susan handed over her gift. "Happy Birthday Harry. I don't know how good you are, but maybe, one evening, we could have a game?" Intrigued, Harry pulled off the wrapping to reveal a chess set. The clearly muggle box prompted a raised eyebrow, to which she explained. "I saw it while we were out that day shopping. I always preferred the muggle ones; the wizards sets seem too much like cheating to me. I asked professor McGonagall to help reshape the pieces slightly." Casting a glance at his Head of House, Harry set the box down before opening the lid. Setting the board aside, he gasped slightly as he saw the pieces. Each piece had clearly been carved from rock at first, but from the images on the box, not to the detail that he saw now. The kings were recognisably images of himself, with Hermione's as the queens, both in long flowing open robes with crowns and swords. The Rooks were armoured, hulking Neville's, while Susan and Daphne were armoured Knights and robed Bishops respectively. The pawns… Harry laughed at the perfect images of Dobby dressed in squires' clothes, complete with staves.

"This is brilliant Susan. I always lose to Ron, so I can't claim to be any good." He paused in thought. "Then again he's admitted that he's had that Wizards set for years. I'm convinced the pieces conspire to let him win, no matter what the other player does. This…" He indicated the muggle version. "…May just even the odds."

Blushing almost as brilliantly as she was smiling, Susan jumped forwards to hug him. "Thanks Harry, and Happy Birthday." She finished with a long kiss before almost dancing back. As she did, Daphne sauntered up, a devious smile on her face. Harry felt a twinge of nervousness.

"That smile means I'm either going to really enjoy this… or I'm in really deep trouble."

"Oh Harry, how can you say things like that?" Daphne asked teasingly, her smile remaining in place, in fact widening slightly. "This is certainly the former, I hope."

The package she handed felt… odd. Like a stack of rounded boxes or plates. Confused, Harry opened it up to see exactly that; a stack of flattened, round edged boxes, each with a hinged edge. Pulling one out, he managed to open it out to see… himself.

"Huh?" Harry was confused. Why had Daphne given him a stack of mirrors?

Daphne's smile was still in place. "I could tell that you regret breaking that mirror Sirius gave you. What it could do… that was priceless. So I decided we all needed a set." Harry tilted the stack slightly to see that indeed, there were a dozen of the folding mirror boxes there. "I bought the mirrors, then got one mangy werewolf…" Remus coughed in dispute of the 'mangy' description as she continued. "…To place the same charms they used on their small mirrors onto these." Daphne's eyes softened. "Now, we are never far away from each other, or our families…"

Placing the mirror he still held back on the stack, Harry reached out and pulled Daphne into a one armed hug. She purred as she moulded herself to his form, before kissing him soundly. "Happy birthday Harry."

Now only Hermione was left. She approached slowly, her eyes fixed on him. "Being last, I've seen a pattern emerge here. Each of us has been touched by Harry's goodness, his selfless acts of kindness. He is a true hero, in every sense of the world. You are Harry." She scolded lightly at his slightly sheepish expression. "You are our hero. But you are so much more than that.

"You've given all of us wonderful memories, and opened up doors to even brighter and happier dreams. This…" She offered her present. "…Will allow you to look back and see just how great you really are." As she pressed it into his hands she leaned over the top to kiss him softly, her lips lingering for a moment. "Happy birthday Harry."

Harry was now openly curious as he took the large present. It felt like a book, but he'd never seen one quite this size. Pulling off the wrapper, he uncovered a very wide and tall leather bound volume. Opening it up at random, his eyes met… blank pages. It was only when he flicked to the front that he realise what this was.

Placed in the first several dozen pages were photos, mostly magical but a few were muggle. Several pages were devoted to Hermione, showing her as a small child, before charting her growth till she reached Hogwarts age. There were similar pages for Susan, Daphne, Fleur and even Tracy. Then the pictures showed them at Hogwarts, alone or together, sometimes with others as well. Harry smiled when he saw one of the photos of himself, her and Ron. It was the same as the one in his own album. There were photos of Hermione, Susan and Daphne together, relaxing together under a tree or in the library. And then there were photos of the time they had spent together since the summer started, with all four of them. Later on Fleur and then Tracy joined them, the photo-selves all laughing and playing easily together.

Harry understood then what Hermione meant. The empty pages were waiting to be filled with more memories such as those already in the early pages. Those they would create together.

Setting Hermione's far-sighted and thoughtful gift aside, Harry stood up and wrapped an arm around her. Smiling happily, she responded by burrowing into his side, her own arms going around his waist. Looking up, he met the eyes of Susan, Daphne, Fleur and finally Tracy. With a jerk of his head, he called them over. Opening his other arm, he invited them into another group hug. Beaming all four slid into it, with Susan getting the prime spot under his left arm, while Daphne linked her hands behind his neck and pressed herself against his chest. Both Hermione and Susan moved an arm off Harry to slide it around Daphne's waist, pulling her into the embrace even more. Fleur and Tracy moved round those two and snuggled into Harry's shoulders, their own arms around each other and the other two, completing the circle of warmth around Harry.

The others watching could not help but be moved by what they saw. Eleanor Greengrass wrapped an arm around Astoria's shoulders, hopeful that one day she and her other daughters could have the kind of love that Daphne had. Both Amelia and McGonagall discreetly wiped away a tear, both remembering their own pasts. Tonks almost literally wrapped herself around Remus, while Hagrid sniffled loudly. Hannah snuggled into Neville's side. The Grangers wrapped an arm round each other, before Daniel clapped a hand on his brothers shoulder, the two sharing a look that perfectly conveyed what both were thinking. Bellatrix and Narcissa, standing to one side, both allowed the tears to run, regret running through them as they thought about opportunities lost. Lily smiled, but then found Luna stepping close, arms out. With a tear in her eye Lily accepted the hug from the small blond, embracing her gently.

Ginny Weasley watched with tears in her eyes and a ache in her heart. She knew, intellectually, that her desire for Harry was mostly potion induced, but it was still there. A part of her wished that it was her, and only her, that he was hugging so intimately. The pain of seeing him with another…

She turned around, unable to bear watching them anymore, fighting back a sob. A hand on her shoulder made her look up… into the understanding gaze of one of the twins. The other was stood next to him, both offering reassurance, with Bill stood behind them. Almost the whole family knew about what had been done and happened to her, though Molly still believed that it was only Arthur who knew. Charlie was out of the country, while Ron was… well, Ron. Even if his mental abilities hadn't decreased of late, he'd still not understand what it meant. Wordlessly Ginny slipped into a shared embrace with her brothers, seeking comfort.

After nearly a minute of just embracing them, Harry relaxed his grip on Hermione and Susan before looking towards Neville. "Want yours now, or later?" He called, nodding his head towards a small collection of wrapped items on a side table.

Neville grinned in reply. Having a pretty fiancé and the support and friendship of so many had done wonders for his confidence. "What do you think?"

"That's what I thought." With his birthday being the day before, the boys had decided that they would have a joint party, though they both knew that most of the attention would be on Harry. Neville had already had a smaller, quiet family party yesterday, so he was not concerned at not being the centre of attention today. With one notable exception… he tightened his hug on Hannah slightly, prompting a giggle from her.

Everyone shifted and moved about, bringing their presents for the Longbottom Scion. Mostly he got chocolate and other treats, as most of those there did not know him well enough to be able to get him a more personal gift.

The clearly muggle cover of the book Hermione gave him confused Neville for a moment, but she explained quickly. "It's basically an encyclopaedia of every single non-magical plant in the world. Where they can be found, characteristics, everything."

"Wow." Neville was stunned as he leafed through the thick, richly coloured book. Page after page of detailed drawings and coloured photos met his eyes. "This is amazing Hermione. Thank you."

Hermione smiled sweetly. "I thought you'd find it useful."

Chuckling Neville set the book down with obvious reluctance before turning to face the next person. Lily smiled at him as she held out her gift. "I may not have been physically there Neville, but I do know you Neville. I hope this eases the pain you feel."

Slightly worried, Neville took the gift, which from the feel was another book. Whipping off the wrapping he found a leather bound album within. Lifting the cover, he gasped. The first page had a wizard photo of his mother and Lily, both clearly at a young age. Likely first or second year, given the Hogwarts uniforms they wore. Turning the pages he found more photos of his mother, and several of his father Frank. While they had Franks younger years at the manor, there had been only a couple of pictures of his Hogwarts years, and barely a handful of the years after with Alice.

Neville wasn't oblivious like Ron. He'd seen Harry spending hours looking through that album after first year. Now he held his own. "Thank you… this is…"

Lily smiled warmly, though it was tinged with sadness. "I promise Neville, I'll look into their condition myself after we end Voldemort. Alice would do the same in my shoes."

Setting the precious album down, Neville patted it gently, taking a moment to get his emotions back under control before he looked towards Harry, the last to give him something. The gift was tall but rather light, prompting him to look curiously as the other young man. Harry just nodded. "Go on, it's not a trick. Though… might want to keep it upright…"

Frowning lightly in confusion, Neville set the gift down before prising the end open. Reaching in, his fingers felt plastic… and soil. Gasping, he drew out a seedling tray, with a clear plastic cover arching over the top of the tray itself. Within each segment were cuttings of plants he didn't recognise.

"I asked Victor to gather some cutting of the more exotic plants we've got out back." Harry explained. "Thought you'd like to have your own Caribbean patch."

Neville grinned. "Harry, this is great! Do you know just how much untapped potential there is in the plants that grow over there?"

Harry laughed in reply. "No, but I'm sure you'll find out. Who knows, maybe we can solve one of the worlds woes with what you discover?"

"That would be nice…" Susan said softly in a dreamy tone.

"Certainly something to aim for." Daphne commented.

For a moment silence reigned, before it was shattered… in true Weasley Twin style.

"Okay, enough of that!"

"Time for cake!"

"And the games!"

* * *

Later on Katie Bell stood to one side of the Grand Hall, watching as Harry laughed and played with the others in his year. After the cakes had been brought out and the candles blown out, the party had shifted back into the central hall of Potter Manor. There, between bites of cake and other muggle snacks, the teens had engaged in many games, all taking the opportunity to just be kids for a while. The most popular had been the enlarged 'Twister', which had brought laughter and blushes in equal measure. Harry had 'somehow' always ended up being pressed between at least two of his fiancés. The wicked grins on the girls faces, even Tracy's, revealed the culprits behind the shenanigans. For a similar reason, Neville was constantly being forced into close contact with Hannah, who giggled every time Neville had flushed.

Thusly, she was giggling almost constantly.

Ginny had been, at first, highly reluctant to get involved. Katie didn't have the full details, but she knew enough to know of what had been done to the little redhead. After some coaxing however she had joined in, and now was laughing as freely as the rest, the dark cloud chased from her eyes.

The Twins, of course, were clearly having a blast causing mischief and inducing laughter. They really got into the spirit of the game… and took it to extreme. Already they were tossing about half sentences that suggested they were thinking of introducing a magical version. She shuddered at the thought.

Not all the children were involved in the mess that was the game, nor was it just limited to the teens. The Greengrass twins had stayed a little aside, watching and cheering on their sisters and Harry. In contrast, the young Auror Tonks had joined the fun… and prompted many of the laughs and out cries herself when she used her metamorph talents to stretch her limbs to reach the coloured spots. Course, when the pile did collapse, she would be tangled up in the mess, and had to literately undo a knot in her arms once.

The other adults generally stayed around the edge, watching with smiles the games while chatting between themselves. Emily and Victor moved effortlessly between them, almost invisible as they kept drinks topped up and plates full. Katie had seen that both were smiling constantly, and she'd once caught them looking at each other lovingly. Clearly they were enjoying the party just as much as anyone else. If what she'd heard was right, they'd had nearly seventeen years without anything like this happen.

"He certainly looks happy." She turned her head to see that Richard Granger had stepped up beside her, his eyes on the laugh pile of teens in the centre. Despite herself, Katie found her heart speeding up a little as she looked over the young man before her. He had the same sleek, toned build of his father, only a little leaner. His dress uniform seemed to have been made to fit him. Katie knew that many of her old pre-Hogwarts friends would have started drooling and throwing themselves at him already.

Richard looked at the young woman, a slight smile twisting the corner of his mouth. "I've actually never seen Hermione so happy before." He said conversationally. Richard had been eyeing this young woman ever since he'd arrived. She was just the type of woman he'd been looking for. Young, beautiful, and athletic. Of course, he knew all too well that it was not looks that really mattered in a relationship. What he'd seen so far was encouraging, but there was that hint of sadness and anger that worried him. A few quiet words with his father and the kindly Remus had allowed him to get an idea of what allied her. While he himself was still unsure about all this magic business, he would not deny that it existed.

"She's normally quite serious." Katie said softly. "I think she takes on a role at school, even more so when she was named Prefect. I guess she feels she can relax here." A pearl of laughter interrupted her, and Katie glanced at the collapsed pile before facing the young airman again. "But I'm convinced that if Harry wasn't here… she'd be only half as happy."

Richard grinned. "Yes… every letter home I've seen the last couple of years has been 'Harry this', 'Harry that'." His eyes clocked over to the two, as the young man in question assisted his cousin to her feet with a gallant helping hand. "I'm pleased that she's finally gotten her man."

Katie smiled. A real, genuine smile, the first since her family was killed.

"That's enough of that, 'Arry." Fleur's voice called out. Straightening, the French born witch brushed her hair back into place. "Let's take a breather, non?"

Harry smiled broadly. "Sure Fleur. I could do with a drink."

As the teens moved to get drinks, Luna stepped over to the grand piano, where her familiar was perched. Sitting on the seat, she offered her fingers, and Gobbler came scuttling over, rubbing his head against her hand like a cat. In the process, one foot came down on the keys of the piano. Heads turned at the low notes sounded throughout the room.

Luna looked about. "Oh, sorry about that."

Harry however smiled and waved her off. "It's okay Luna. He's just being affectionate."

Luna beamed, before she sensed that someone was standing behind her. Turning her head, she saw that Emily Van Dort was looking at her, her face open and unguarded. "Do you play, my dear?"

Looking over the broad swath of keys, Luna had to shake her head. "No. We never had room for anything like this…" She sighed softly.

With barely a whisper Victor moved to his wife's side. "My Lord?" When Harry turned, he bowed slightly. "Perhaps some music?" Emily's jumped to him, dancing with light.

Harry waved back. "Knock yourself out."

Sensing that she'd be in the way, Luna stood up, scooping Gobbler up as she did. Victor and Emily moved as one and sat down, Victor at the low end while Emily had the high notes. Looking at each other, their hands rested on the keys… and then they started to play.

It was an incredible display. They played without notes or timer, just perfectly in tune with each other. Neither looked at their hands; their eyes were on each other. They formed a complex, melodious duet, one that stilled all conversation as everyone listened to them.

Katie lost track of time as they listened, feeling her inner pain ease as the music filled her. It was almost a painful experience when the song ended, the two still looking and smiling at each other. Applause echoed through the hall as the listeners congratulated them on their skill. "What else can you play?" Nathan called, linking his hand with his wife's. "Anything you can dance to?" He asked, grinning at Emma.

Victor smiled, flexing his fingers before starting to sound out a beat with a low note. Emily giggled softly before resting her fingers on the keys. Then she started to play with him.

It was amazing to hear them play the well known score for the 'Tango' dance on just the piano. It certainly made a difference, provoking a softer, more romantic feel to the music. Nathan and Emma were holding each other close in the centre of the floor, slowly turning on the spot. Henrick and Eleanor soon joined them, before Tonks dragged a reluctant Remus out as well. Neville and Hannah moved out, then as a group Harry and his ladies moved onto the floor. The couples moved slowly and gently, submerging into the music.

Katie glanced towards Richard, only to see he was looking back at her. Slowly he offered his hand. "May I have this dance?" He asked.

Chuckling softly, she placed her hand in his. "Of course, sir."

They moved out onto the floor, carried by the music the Van Dorts were crafting and sculpting together. Lily watched from the sidelines as Daniel Granger and Narcissia joined the group. She laughed softly at the sight of the Weasley Twins making a show of dancing with the much smaller – but infinitely cuter – Greengrass twins, and she smiled warmly when she saw how Katie was opening up to and sharing a dance with Hermione's cousin. But her eyes kept on being drawn back to the centre of the floor, were Harry's group were. Harry was in the centre, dancing with one of the young ladies – Daphne at that moment, with the other four moving around the pair. Then with a flourish Susan moved to the ring, and Tracy stepped into the circle, to be swept in her son's arms, the others adjusting their pattern to accept the change seamlessly.

Within her chest, Lily's heart felt peace.

Around them all, the Grand Hall of Potter Manor, empty and desolate for so long, resounded with music and laughter.

* * *

**A/N:** Phew, we got there in the end! Oh, that wall was what gifts various people would give Harry, in case you were all wondering...

I fear the last few paragraphs are a bit rushed. Maybe, once the stories done, I'll come back and rewrite them.


	38. Gathering to Fight

**DR: **So sorry for the long delay with this chapter, but I wanted to get it right... and build up a bit of a cushion between want I'm posting, and what I'm currently typing.

So, I should have seen the response my question at the end of the last chapter would be! The majority wanted smut. However... those of you who said no, gave very good reasons why _not_ to have smut. So I've compromised. The first segment is the start of the smut, and then we go back to building the plot and moving the story along. Hopefully, some day, I'll take that starting segment, and write out in full what happened after... if I feel up to doing so. I'd post it as a one-shot if I did.

Of course, if anyone want's to try their hand at writing that scene, just ask!

* * *

Harry sighed happily as he flipped back the covers for his bed. Today had been the best birthday he'd ever had! True, it was the only birthday that had been recognised by the people around him. The Dursleys had never cared one bit.

The dancing had gone on into the evening, with Victor and Emily playing throughout. Even afterwards they had continued to play softly… still looking at each with love in their eyes. It had been amazing to see those two play together. Neither was looking at the keys, yet they were in perfect harmony, not one sour chord or miss-timed note throughout. Harry had thanked everyone for coming, as well as for the gifts. Augusta Longbottom had to be helped through the floo by Neville: she'd been sampling the alcoholic beverages all day. Several of the other adults were a little tipsy too as they walked out the main manor. Fortunately they were only living on the manor grounds now. The renovations on the three sub-manors were all but completed, while the Tonks and Remus had settled into their new homes by the gates. Besides, with Racknor watching over the entire grounds, no harm was likely to befall any of them on the short walks back to their beds.

Harry was just sitting on his bed when the door opened. Looking up, his gaze collided with Hermione's. "Ah good, you're still awake." She said, smiling deviously.

"Hey there…" Harry replied a little nervously. Hermione's smile was a little… worrying. "Was there something else you need?"

Eyes dancing, Hermione stepped over to him before taking his hand. "Why yes there is, Lord Potter." She replied before tugging him to his feet. "We require your presence in the family room."

Harry's eyebrow rose. "We?"

Giggling, Hermione just pulled him through and out into the family room. The sky was just starting to get dark outside, but with the curtains drawn the room itself was actually quite dim. He caught a glimpse of Susan drawing the curtains over their private balcony as Hermione led him over to a sofa sat just off the centre of the room. With a gentle push he saw in the centre, with her standing before him.

"Uh, Hermione? What are you doing?" Harry asked nervously, shifting about a little. He'd already changed for bed, and Hermione had not given him a chance to pull on his dressing gown. Thusly he was clad only in a t-shirt and sleep shorts. Looking up at her he noticed that she'd changed her clothing too… but it was certainly not sleepwear she was wearing. The pale blue summer dress she'd worn during the day had been replaced with dark hip hugging jeans and a waistcoat… without a shirt underneath. As a lamp clicked on to his left, he was startled to see two points form on her front, atop each barely covered mound…

"You see Harry…" Daphne's voice from his left made him look away from Hermione, to see the former Slytherin sliding onto the sofa next to him. Again, she'd changed her dress for more… revealing clothes. In her case, a very short skirt and tight crop top. She was smiling devilishly as she laid an arm along the back of the sofa behind his head. "…We decided to give you a second party."

"A more, intimate, party." Tracy's voice from his right spun him around too see she'd moved in while he'd been distracted by Daphne. Harry gulped as he realised that the only parts of her he could see were where the skin showed through… but it was clear that she was not wearing the same clothes as before. Her hands appeared to be disembodied, but from her throat a narrow triangle of bare skin ran down to where her waist would be. "Family only."

"Did you really think we'd let your birthday go without giving you a special treat from us?" Susan's voice came out of the dark.

"Look, you really don't have to…" Harry began. Hermione's finger came to land on his lips, hushing him.

"Harry…" She half whispered. "We want to. We want to make this day really special for you. Just sit back…" Gently she pushed him back till he was sat back in the sofa while stepping forwards, ending up between his legs. "…And enjoy it."

Behind and above her a light flipped on, illuminating a smallish region of the room while leaving the rest of the room in semi-darkness. Music began to play, something Harry had trouble identifying. As Hermione sank to her knees to sit on her heels before him, Harry's jaw dropped as he saw what was in the spot lit area. A raised, circular platform, with a shining pole rising out of the centre and disappearing into the darkness of the ceiling. Movement from the far side stopped his question before it reached his mouth, as Fleur stepped up onto the platform, moving around the pole to lean against it facing him. Unlike the others, she was still wearing her dress from before, but with the light behind her it was turned partially translucent, outlining her legs under the skirt. It also looked a lot shorter, only coming down to mid-thigh. Beaming at him, Fleur blew Harry a kiss before she pivoted around the pole, doing a full circle but ending up facing the other way, her back to him while grasping the pole with both hands.

Then she swayed her hips back and forth, swashing the skirt about.

"Is she…"

"Oh yes, Harry. Fleur insisted on it." Daphne commented, watching the other blond as she danced. "She wanted to put on a show for you. Whoa…" She breathed as Fleur brought one leg straight up, bending over backwards as she did to look at Harry before wrapping the upraised leg around the pole. "I didn't know she was that flexible…" Daphne mused.

Harry watched open mouthed as Fleur came back around the pole, flashing her thin knickers at him in the process. Once more facing away from him, she let go of the pole and twisted her head to look at him over her shoulder. Winking devilishly, she reached back to the small of her back, were her dress started along her spine. A finger went inside… before the hand moved down, unzipping a hidden seam.

"Enjoying the show Harry?" Hermione asked as Fleur repeated the motion with her other hand. Harry jumped as he felt one of her small, delicate hands rub across his crotch. "I'd say you are…"

"He's not the only one…" Daphne said huskily. A quick glance showed her face to be flushed.

"Oh… are you finding Fleur's show hot too?" Susan asked as she swayed into the light. Harry gulped as her altered dress was revealed: tight 'boy shorts' and a blouse that looked a couple of sizes too small tied off beneath her breasts. Kneeling before Daphne, Harry was shocked to see her push Daphne's legs apart. "Oh… I see…" A very naughty smirk appeared on the busty redheads face.

Harry didn't know where to look: Fleur strip dancing on the stage, or at the two to his left. A moan from Tracy made him look at her – to see her watching Fleur intently, her mouth open a little – before he felt hands pulling down his sleep shorts. Looking down with some alarm, he discovered that Hermione had moved to be between his legs. Seeing him watching her, Hermione licked her lips and smiled. "Just enjoy this night Harry…"

Harry, too absorbed with what was happening around him, didn't notice one of the doors open a little across the room. For a few second the figure looking out watched. A small chuckle escaped feminine lips, then the door closed again, leaving the six their privacy…

* * *

Across the country, another pair of teenagers lay cuddled together in bed. One slept with a happy smile on her face, while he was sat up against the headboard, smiling warmly down at his companion. Neville gently stroked a lock of sweat soaked blonde hair away from Hannah's face, letting his fingertip circle around her eye to run down her jaw. Under the thin covers he felt her naked body squirm slightly under his ministrations, her smooth legs trapping one of his between them. His other hand was splayed across her back, holding her close. There was a stirring in his crotch at her motion, but he was too tired to bother waking her for another round.

'_How did I get so lucky?'_ Neville thought to himself. All his years he'd been the bumbler, the buffoon. The fat, slow little boy who was little more than a Squib. Shy and withdrawn, he'd retreated to his plants and his dreams, fearing contact with the outside world… lest it hurt him again. He'd been mortally terrified of going to Hogwarts, somewhere unknown with all those strange people, far away from his comfortable home.

But it had been that event that had started to change him. While most of the other students had only seen the clumsy, overweight near Squib, there had been two who had not. Harry Potter had been just as shy and withdrawn, so the two had connected… when loud-mouthed Ron 'subtle as a bludger to the head' Weasley hadn't been around. The other had been Hermione, who had helped and assisted him with his work. Those two had allowed him to be himself, and had actually accepted him. While it had been her who had petrified him at the end of the year, she'd been polite and remorseful about it… unlike Ron, who'd been the last to pass him by. He'd never let on, but he'd heard what Ron had said to him… in its entirety. Including the bit he'd muttered under his breath as he'd walked away.

"_It's for your own good you know… you stupid clumsy squib. Thinks he can muscle in on my friend…"_

As he'd laid there, waiting for someone to come along and release him, Neville had thought about the trio, and his relationship with them. He'd decided that while he had no intention of ever getting close to Ron, Harry and Hermione however were both people he could admire. In the years after, he'd pushed himself, trying to find ways to overcome his own faults, while at the same time watching them. He reckoned he'd been one of the first to see the connection between them. He watched as the two of them had danced around each other, each clearly having feelings for the other beyond friendship, but equally as clearly not aware of the others feelings. Then, in fifth year, came his second spur to improve himself. The mass breakout of Azkaban… including the one's who tortured his parents to insanity. After that news, he'd pushed himself harder than ever. It had all paid off at the end, as when they were fighting for their lives he'd not flinched nor hesitated.

Now here he was, with a young lady in his arms, after a night of passionate lovemaking. He'd once, briefly, considered a relationship with Hermione, but he'd quickly put that thought aside. Her heart belonged to Harry… though for a short while it had _almost_ looked like she was developing some feelings for Ron. Neville believed that was in response to her own self-assured certainty that Harry didn't see her 'that way'. It was one of the few times that Hermione had been completely, utterly wrong. Also, although he admired her, Neville was man enough to admit that she was not his 'ideal woman'. Some of her habits and traits, while making her ideal for Harry, had been turn-offs for himself.

He'd asked Ginny to the Ball Fourth year, partly because it was obvious that she was desperate to go, but also because he had seen a spark of something in her that appealed. Her inner fiery personality was starting to emerge, and Neville had been entranced. They had had a good time, or at least he hoped she did. However, he'd never tried to openly date her because of the looming spectre of her brothers in the background. Only a blind man would fail to see how protective they were of their little sister… and no one dared draw the ire of the Weasley Twins. The results would be… unpleasant. Now had it just been Ron… Neville knew by then that Ron was all mouth and no brains or skill.

Of course, he'd looked at the other girls around. It was impossible not to take notice. None of the Ravenclaws had appealed, despite the obvious similarities to Hermione. Parkinson and Bulstrode had repulsed him; the former was clearly a gold-digger and sycophant, the latter was, bluntly, ugly. Tracy had a dark beauty to her that intrigued and scared him in equal measure, though since actually getting to know her as one of Harry's future wives had allowed him to see the real Tracy underneath. She was like Hermione in a way: he could admire her, but she wasn't his type.

Daphne had always been ranked up there as one of the hottest girls in their year; even by Ron, despite his seemingly genetic aversion to anything or anyone associated with Slytherin House. But her icy cold demeanour had chilled him, and he'd stayed away, at first. Now though, he counted her as a good friend. She'd been wary of him when he'd first gone to Hermione for advice once, and discovered her friendship with the Slytherin blonde, along with Susan Bones, whom he'd met on occasion before Hogwarts. Over time she had warmed up, but there had always been a distance that she imposed. But since she'd hooked up with Harry, that reserve appeared to have vanished. Susan herself had always been someone he could get along with, but in some ways they were _too_ similar. He had suspected that they would have started to grate against each other after a while had they tried to date. They worked well as friends, and Neville was content with that.

But her housemate – former housemate, he mentally corrected himself – Hannah… now she had been a surprise. In their earlier years she'd come across much like Lavender had: a rather ditzy, shallow blonde. Yet during the DA sessions she'd been as hard working as Susan… almost as much as himself. Indeed, as the years had progressed it appeared that she had firmed up her own views on things, and was determined to no longer be swayed by public opinion. He'd been immensely proud of her earlier, when she'd apologised to Harry for her wavering opinion of him during Second Year.

Proof of that assertiveness had come when they had returned to Longbottom Manor. After helping his gran to her bedchamber – She'd been quite drunk by the time the day ended – they had both left her to sleep it off. As they had backed away however Augusta had muttered, "You're a good girl Han. I know little Nev's in good hands…" Hannah had managed to contain her laughter until they had left the older woman in peace. Embarrassed at the use of her endearment – last used when he'd been five – Neville had suggested they both follow her example and retire for the night. Hannah had looked at him with a gleam in her eyes that Neville was quickly learning meant that she had an idea… one that boded great pleasure in his near future. She'd all but dragged him to his own chambers, before kissing him intently.

After that, things got a might blurry in Neville's mind. He'd tried to be the voice of reason, but Hannah had insisted. Once they were sat on his bed, she'd whispered to him that Harry was likely getting _very_ lucky at that moment; she'd seen the looks in 'his ladies' eyes. It was only fair that he be equally as lucky. Neville's resistance had crumbled at those words.

Now, in the aftermath, Neville gently held her as she slept, watching her as he tried to find the words he could use to adequately convey his appreciation for what she had given him. They had both been novices, neither having any real experience at this sort of thing. After stripping off and sliding under the covers, they'd kissed and fumbled for a while before they found themselves, quite by accident, in the right places to take things to the next level. He'd opened his mouth to ask her once more if she really wanted to do this, but she'd kissed him before words could emerge, using the distraction to force herself onto him a little. That was all it took to send his chivalry to the wind, and he'd taken her with all the desire he had.

Sitting there, feeling the soft warmth of her next to him, Neville found himself unable to think of any words that could do her justice. In fact, he suspected he could spend a whole life trying to do so… and failing.

For once, Neville had no problems with failing to achieve something at all.

* * *

The next morning came far too bright for Harry, who felt a weary ache throughout his body. Forcing his seemingly glued together eyelids open, he immediately closed them again at the bright sunlight that streamed through the windows. For a moment he considered trying to doze off again… but his body was awake now. Awake, and insistently informing him that he needed sustenance.

Cracking his eyes open a fraction once more, he looked about him. The bed was a mess; the cover twisted about crazily… only partly covering the five naked young women that lay sprawled on his bed around him. Closest was Tracy, cuddled into his side. While she was still asleep like the others, there was the smile on her face of the cat who got the cream. Last night she'd gotten up the nerve to actually go 'all the way' with him. After some – okay, a lot of – initial discomfort, she'd warmed up to the act very quickly. He'd done his best to make it easy on her; allowed her to set the pace, chose how far to go. With the gentle encouragements of the others, she'd reached her peak eventually.

Daphne was face down his other side, her rear still raised up a little. His last memory of last night had been him ploughing her from behind. A smile twitched onto his face when he saw the bundle that was Susan and Hermione. His best friend was snuggled into the former 'puffs expansive chest, her brow pillowed on the one breast. He'd been rather shocked to see them start pleasuring each other while he was with one. Shocked… and aroused. Even with all their assurances, he'd worried about how they could feel 'left out' when he focused on one. Clearly, they had decided to experiment, to find a work around for that.

Sliding out of the bed, he picked his way over the scattered clothing that littered the floor. Pulling up a fresh set of sleep shorts – his set from last night were certainly going in the wash today – he winced slightly as his member brushed against the fabric. The ache was a pain, but it was a minor price to pay for all the pleasure he got last night. Hopefully he'd get used to such use… With a small laugh he pulled on his dressing gown before easing the door open a little, just enough to slip out into the main living space here on the top floor.

Almost before he got the door closed the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee struck his nose, prompting his stomach to growl again. Turning about, he saw that the small table from the side had been moved into the middle of the room – right where Fleur's pole had been, of which he could not see a trace of – and it was loaded with all manner of breakfast foods. In a chair close by his mother was sat, a paper in one hand and a cup in the other. As he hobbled over with a stiff gait she looked up, her eyes dancing with love and mischief even as she smiled salaciously.

"Morning lover boy son. They all still asleep?"

Harry flushed red in response. "Uh, yeah. They are." He looked at her with trepidation. "How did…?"

"I caught the opening acts of your private party last night." She explained. "What? You think I disapprove? Harry…" She set her cup aside as she stood to wrap him up in a motherly hug. "You deserve every shred of happiness you can get. I could tell they had chosen to set that up. Though I wouldn't go boasting to the other lads. Their parents may not be as… open minded, as me."

Harry chuckled. "The girls would kill me before their parents could even hear about it." He sobered a little. "Mum… are you sure that you don't mind?"

Lily sighed softly. "I still partly wish it could have just the one young woman for you Harry, but the situation is what it is. It's not like you trapped any of them into this. Only Fleur was in anyway forced, but it was an internal force, not something anyone put on her." Lily smiled now. "But I could not have hoped for a better set of women for you Harry. Together, they'll help make you so much more than one alone could."

"The whole will be far greater than the sum of its parts." Luna's voice prompted both to turn and look at the stairs, to see Luna – with Gobbler on his usual perch – and Katie stood together there, both smiling. Luna's was pure openness and contentment, while there was a devious twist to Katie's. Lily noted however, with some surprise, that some of the darkness had receded from the older girls eyes.

"Morning Luna, Katie." Harry greeted them as Lily released him from her embrace. "Sleep well?"

"Not as well as you, I imagine." Katie teased lightly.

Harry's cheeks reddened even more as he moved towards the table. The smell of bacon was so enticing…

A sharp tap on glass drew all eyes to the one window… outside of which, one Snowy Owl was perched on the windowsill, looking in beadily.

"Hedwig…" Harry seized the distraction with both hands, moving over to open the window for his Familiar. Hedwig 'krek'ed as offered an arm for her, onto which she hopped. Carefully Harry walked back to the table, making sure not to unbalance her. Hedwig's eyes however were locked on the plate of bacon on the table. "Here you go…" He said as he lowered his arm to be at the same level as the back of one of the chairs. Hedwig hopped onto it, before barking again, as if saying 'Nicely done, pet. Now feed me.'

Lily smiled warmly at the interaction. "She's as much a character as anyone here." She looked down under the table. "And so's this one." Under the table Crookshanks was sprawled out as only a cat could, an empty bowl near his head.

The two younger women laughed softly as they walked over to join Harry and Lily at the table. As Luna got closer, Gobbler chirped, head flicking back and forth. "I didn't forget about you, you bottomless pit." Lily smiled as she lifted a cover off one plate, to reveal a trio of whole mackerel. Gobbler purred in reply.

"So, Harry…" Katie started slowly as they began to dish up their breakfasts. "…What did the Headmaster want?" She then looked at him closely. "Or did you not get around to that?" A half smile flickered across her face.

Harry, with a mouthful of egg, didn't reply verbally. However the light glare he sent back spoke volumes. Turning towards his mum, he found Lily holding out the letter for him. Rolling his eyes Harry took it with one hand, using the other to feed Hedwig a rasher of bacon. As the owl began to voraciously tear the grilled pig flesh apart, Harry pulled the letter open, unfurling it to read the missive.

'_To Harry and family,_

'_Having reflected on the matters you and others have raised with me over this past summer, I find myself left with no other option. It pains me to say it, but I must._

'_I am sorry. For everything._

'_My intentions were pure, Harry. I was a radical in my youth too you know. I truly believed that Petunia would raise you like her own son, as the child of her sister. I know now, that that assumption was wholly wrong. I can only thank Merlin and all the gods that you did not become as warped and twisted as one Tom Riddle became, after growing up in disturbingly similar circumstances._

'_Likewise, I was thinking of the wider issues when I arranged that marriage contract with Molly. Our world is dying. Each year I see the divide between the 'old magic' families – the Purebloods – and the muggleborns growing wider. I hoped that a union between yourself and a pureblood family would help seal, or at least bridge, that rift. Please, understand. Having defeated Voldemort, your public image would sway our world. Having you marry a pureblood would show that not all purebloods are like Tom Riddle. It saddened me that you, I thought, would not live to enjoy such a union. I honestly thought you had to die to bring about the end of Riddle. That's why I chose the Weasleys to make your union with. In the hands of a confirmed Light family, your families wealth would help ease the wounds our world has suffered._

'_I see now that I was wrong. The witches around you will do so far more than I could have thought possible. I only ask that you respect the traditions of our world, and don't push too hard, too fast. Our world is fragile, Harry._

'_I know now that my actions in the last decade are, from the outside, are not those of a saviour, but a monster. Miss Greengrass was right; I have become what I've fought. I can only hope to make amends and give you the chance to avoid my fate._

'_I hope that we can work together to end the threat of Voldemort. I would hope that I could somehow regain your trust, but I fear I do not have the time to do so. I was attending to business, one very much like that event at headquarters, when I – I'm afraid to admit – got careless. My time on this plain is far more limited than I had thought earlier this summer. I fear that I will not live to see the end of Voldemort. I can only hope you will allow a dying old fool a chance to give you everything you need to know to end him. Towards that end, I wish for us to meet the first full weekend back once the year starts. I will not forbid you from bringing others with you, as I know you would bring them anyway._

'_In any case, I hope you have a bright, cheerful birthday._

'_Albus Dumbledore.'_

Harry slowly lowered the letter, a frown marring his brow. Wordlessly he passed the open letter back to Lily. Taking it, Lily read the letter closely. She had no fear of there being charms or curses hidden within: she'd been monitoring Harry closely while he'd read it, and she'd would have picked up on any magic's bound to the parchment.

She also knew that Racknor would also be watching… and any spell directed at Harry would be considered an attack on the Lord of the Potter Family. The Guardian Spirit would _not_ take kindly to such an act.

After reading it, she looked at Harry, their matching eyes meeting. "You think he's on the level?" Harry asked quietly.

Lily thought for a second. "Seems so. But I'm sitting in on that meeting though."

"What meeting? Who…" A yawn interrupted Susan's sleepy voice. "…Are we talking about?"

Harry turned to see Susan almost stumbling towards the table from the master bedroom. She'd wrapped herself in her dressing gown, but clearly had not attempted to tame her hair, as the long red strands were a mess more normally seen on Hermione. Smiling warmly, Harry took her hand when she was close enough and guided her to his lap. Susan sank down tiredly, leaning against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Lily passed him another cup with an indulgent smile. As soon as the aroma of fresh, hot Earl Grey hit her nose, Susan began to perk up a little. Her free hand reached out, searching for the god's nectar that she craved. After a few moments Harry brought the cup to her lips, and she seemed to almost inhale the dark drink, her eyes drifting closed as she swallowed. They could almost see her waking up as the tea went down. After several seconds Susan lowered the cup, releasing a pleasured sigh before she looked up at him with warmth. Grinning, Harry ducked his head and kissed her briefly. "Morning sleepy head. The others' up yet?"

Susan hummed. "Fleur was moving, though I think she might have pulled a muscle last night…"

"Oh, do I hear a juicy bit of gossip?" Katie jumped in. "What did you five do to this poor man last night?"

Susan just looked at the older girl with lidded eyes. "Not really any of your business, now is it?" She stated firmly.

Harry took pity on her and kissed Susan's cheek. "We were just discussing Dumbledore's letter. You want to read it now?"

Susan shook her head, taking another sip of tea. "Too sleep befuddled to focus right now. Show me once I get a decent breakfast in me. I'm starved!" With that she stood from his lap – planting another kiss on him as she did – before taking the seat next to him on his right. Hedwig barked from his left, wanting more bacon.

"Oh here you." Harry replied good naturedly as he offered up another rasher. Hedwig snatched it out of his hand before tearing into it.

Lily leaned towards the younger redhead. "Guess you all worked up an appetite last. Though you did appear to taste some new things…" Lily winked in reply to Susan's shocked and flushed look, prompting her face to turn redder.

The sound of the door closing prompted Harry to look up to see Fleur was now up. She appeared to be limping a little as she walked over, one hand resting on her thigh. "Morning, ma love. Lily." Taking the chair between Lily and Susan, she exchanged cheek kisses with both redheads before turning to the food. A wince crossed her face as her hand rubbed her thigh. "Ah, I'll 'ave to give monsieur Grangers training a miss this morning."

Harry frowned before looking at his mother. "That's a point. Where is Captain Granger?"

"Oh, he had to leave early." Lily explained. "He had an important meeting to attend. Amelia and Bella went with him."

Katie frowned in confusion. "What about?"

Lily's smile was predatory. "It seems that Amelia's brother has gathered the soldiers short listed to form our 'private' army…"

* * *

"Aten-shen!"

the sounds of boots rapidly moving across vinyl floor greeted Daniel Granger as he followed the Colonel into the briefing room. He allowed his eyes to sweep across the men gathered within, now all standing at attention, backs ramrod straight and eyes forward. For a few moments the only sounds were the footfalls of Daniel and the Colonel, softly counter pointed by the tapping of the heels Amelia Bones was wearing as she followed Daniel in. A few eyes flickered towards the grey haired older woman, but none asked about her.

Colonel Bones came to rest at the lecture that faced the room. "At ease. Be seated gentlemen." He commanded easily.

Daniel and Amelia took seats against the wall behind the Colonel, watching as the gathered force of men swiftly sat behind the long tables facing them… all bar one. Daniel's eyes snapped to the one figure at the back, who was leaning against a table in the darkest portion of the room. Unlike the other soldiers he wore not dark green fatigues but black. These had no markings however, unlike the three men who were sat at the end of one of the front row. Those three wore police uniforms. No, this man was much more. Focusing on his face… Daniel felt a shiver run down his spine.

He didn't know the man, not even his name, but he knew _what_ he was. He'd only seen him once before, when 2 Para had assisted in a regular training exercise… as the force hunting escapees. This man had been one of the instructors, monitoring the trainees as they struggled to escape and evade 2 Para's men while attempting to reach rendezvous points on time. The last point however, had been a trap, and 2 Para had been instructed to be as harsh and brutal as they could to the trainees. Much, much worse was in store for them.

Becoming the best was _not_ for the faint of heart.

"Now then, I'm sure you are all wondering why you are here." Colonel Bones began. Looking over the other faces, Daniel could see the confusion and curiosity in the younger men's eyes. He allowed his thoughts to drift back, for a moment, to the planning sessions he'd had with the Colonel. They early on decided to focus on Army personal. This wasn't service bias: neither the RAF or the Navy had the right training for what they were expecting. An exception had been made for the Marines, and two members of that tough breed of soldier were now sat here. They had also looked at members of the Met's S/O19 division, to fill any gaps in the skill set. As it happened, these three did fill a hole in the planned battle group.

"Britain is facing a very grave threat gentlemen. A terrorist group, composed of British nationals… though I am hesitant to dignify them with that honour. They have been active, on and off, for the last thirty years, carrying out murders and rapes across the country. We gained a ten year respite from their atrocities in '81, but they have started up again. This time however, they had allied themselves with a foreign paramilitary group, who are every bit as rotten as they are. So far they have only made one attack, but we expect more to come. That's why we are forming this temporary task force, to counter this paramilitary element head on, with the blessing of High Command, the PM and the Commander-in-Chief. If any of the other sect wanders into our line of fire… well then, it will be no loss to society if they were to be taken out as well.

"Now, our intel on the Paramilitary group is limited right now, but we hope to gather more soon. What we do know is that they are extremist Neo-Nazis, and have trained in the combat tactics and weapons of that… unfortunate, bit of German history. It has been confirmed that a former member of the SS leads them however, this man." The colonel flicked a switch, and on the screen behind him an old still photo of Daphne's great uncle appeared, provided by his brother. "Major Bearson Greengrass. Do not be fooled by his lack of an arm. This man is to be considered extremely dangerous, and has the utmost loyalty of the men under his command.

"The other group, the English born and raised, are much less disciplined and organised. They are more like a mob, made up of thugs and decedent 'nobles' who believe their breeding makes them superior to others. Their intentions are very similar to the Nazis in fact: anyone not 'one of them' is worthy only of being a slave to them. This group are ruthless, sadistic killers and rapists, who won't hesitate to kill a child to get what they want."

"Sir?" A hulking brute of a man stood from the front ranks, his chest an array of service ribbons. "This group… surely the press would have picked up on them?"

Colonel Bones nodded at him, acknowledging the question. "Normally you would be right Sergeant. The reason they have not is directly linked to just 'who' they are… and why each of us are here." Several of the men shifted in their seats, clearly unsettled at the Colonels words.

"Normal practice for what we are doing would be to draw whole squads from other regiments, rather than individuals. However, in that case we cannot. What we are discussing here cannot leave this room. Even after you return to your regiments, you cannot share what you will see and experience with your fellow soldiers. Your families will know some of the details, but operational orders still apply."

Daniel fought to hold in his grin at the looks of confusion on the faces of the other soldiers. How could their _families _know about this grave threat, yet their fellow servicemen could not?

"Allow me to explain the missing link for you gentlemen. We selected each and every one of you because you all share a simple fact. As do myself and my guests." Eyes flickered to Daniel and Amelia for a moment. "Each of you has a relative – be they a sibling, parent, spouse or child – who uses one of these." With that Colonel Bones held up his right hand, which he had kept on the lectern out of the soldiers' sight. Held in his hand were three wands, taken from the Death Eaters Daniel had killed defending his brothers' home.

The realisation swept through the room, clear across all the faces. Almost instantly each and everyone one of them lost the confused and worried looks. Instead understanding filled them as they realised just 'Who' they would be fighting.

"That's right gentlemen. We're going up against wizards. The corrupt, decedent Death Eater Thugs who follow their Dark Lord… the very one who nearly completely took over fifteen years ago. He's now got a force of wizard Nazi's as allies. After Captain Granger's…" the Colonel gestured towards Daniel "…successful defence of his brothers' home against an attack by the Death Eaters, it was decided by those most engaged with the Dark Lord that it was time to balance the issue. Captain Granger?"

Daniel stood up and stepped forwards to face the men before him. Each and every one was watching him intently. "The Colonel has my formal report on the Death Eaters, but here's the basics: They are principally thugs and bullies. A militia, made up of self-obsessed individuals and the dregs of their society. The Wizarding World is still trapped in the early Victorian age… something which still riles my niece, the target of their raid, immensely."

"Wait… Sir, Granger?" One of the men, a Tanker from his insignia, spoke up. "Would your niece happen to be Hermione Granger?"

Daniel smiled tightly. "One and the same."

"My daughter looks up to her." The tanker beamed, before a look of awe crossed his face. "Then that means… you've met Harry Potter?"

Daniel nodded. "I have. The press does not do him justice. That kids been through hell, and worse is to come. He's the one funding this force, so we can deal with the followers and the Magi-Nazis while he deals with the Dark Lord himself. I for one, do not intend to let him down!"

"Well said Captain." Colonel Bones stepped in again. "Now, while young mister Potter is funding us, we will have some support from the Ministry on Magic. My sister Amelia here is the Head of their Department of Law Enforcement. Amelia?"

Amelia Bones now stood, her experience with Aurors making her no stranger to speaking to a gathered group of men. However, the tingles running down her spine made her aware of the subtle differences as well. These weren't Aurors, glorified policemen. These were soldiers, trained killers. When they engaged the enemy, they would shoot to kill. "Thank you William. While I and my Aurors will do all we can to assist, I'm afraid we do not have _official _backing from the Ministry. The Dark… Voldemort, has far too many spies and sympathisers within the Ministry itself, and in the Wizengamot, our Judicial and Law Making body. I have gained contacts with Scotland Yard however. The countries police forces will be on the lookout for unusual events or suspicious gatherings. With a little luck, they can help us find you 'gentlemen' targets." She was pleased to see that not one man even flinched at her use of the dreaded name.

"While the good captain's assessment is correct, I must warn you not to underestimate the Death Eaters. They are all ruthless killers, who would take no greater pleasure that torturing each and every one of you to death. These… people kill, maim, torture and rape for thrills. Any woman, adult or child, taken by them will wish for death. What we learned from those that were captured during the attack on the Grangers paints a terrible picture of their intentions towards their targets." Drawing her wand slowly, she waved it at the stack of folders on a side table. Each one floated over to each soldier gathered there. "Those files contain the details about each attack they made that night, and the consequences. While they were mostly repulsed, two young women were made orphans that night. The one's father held off the Death Eater's long enough for my Aurors to get there in time, but the other's parents…" Amelia shivered. Several of the soldiers had opened the files, and now blanched as each came to the section on the Bells. "That is the fate of those they look down on. As in, all muggles and muggleborns." She said softly in response to the looks she was getting from them.

In that instant the attitude in the room hardened. Not one man there had trouble picturing their own families being tortured like that. Each one swore to themselves not to let that happen… ever.

There would be no mercy for any of those Death Eater scum.

"I'm sure you understand the need to keep this all Need to Know." Colonel Bones said firmly. "I know that the bonds between you and your squad mates would have them coming with you to hunt these bastards down in a flash. However, we have to maintain the secrecy of the Magical World. Therefore, it's up to us. We'll form two sections, standard configuration, as our battle line. I intend for us to match their numbers with greater firepower, thusly I've already requisitioned two GPMG's and a pair of surplus L4A1's. We'll form a fire-team around the GPMG's, while the Mortar's will be together with a spotter. Those of you in those groups, your job will be to lay down suppressive fire. This Voldemort is likely to try and win over various other factions and creatures to fill out his ranks, both as tools of terror and combatants. Towards that end, you four…" He waved his hand towards the four men who bore Armoured Regiment insignia. "…Will be tasked with crewing a surplus tank once we find a suitable one. There is strong concern that this Dark Lord has gained the support of at least a few Giants. You're our counter." The four tankers looked at each other with concerned looks.

"Sniper duties will be taken by our S/O19 officers, while Captain Granger will be the Officer in Command in the field."

"And us, sir?" One of the marines asked.

Colonel Bones smiled darkly. "I'm sure you two can cause havoc to our foes in your own special way." He turned serious again. "One more thing. We've got some time to train and prepare, but not a lot. You're not only going to have to learn how to work together at short notice, you're also going to have to understand how this foe fights. Towards that end, I asked for one more guest to join us."

Daniel stepped forwards as Amelia moved back to the door. "Some of you may recognise this woman. Her face was in the Magical's newspaper a couple of months back. What has _not_ been reported is that she's had a total change of heart, and now fights against the Dark Lord. We've brought her here to help train you in how the Death Eaters fight."

"Sir?" The Sergeant spoke up again. "How can we trust the word or actions of a defector?"

Daniel nodded slowly. "That is a valid question, one I asked myself several times already. Two things; One, the Dark Lord will kill her if she even tries to go back… and that's if he's in a good mood. And second, she swore on her magic to aid Harry in any way she could to bring down Voldemort. By helping us, she's helping Harry." At that moment Bellatrix stepped in, closely followed by Amelia.

Though her dress was more casual muggle, her hair more tamed and her face not as gaunt, it was clear that at least a few recognised her, given the wave they tensed at sight of her.

"Yes, this is the former Bellatrix LeStrange, once Voldemort's top warrior. She has changed sides in the hope of making amends. I have asked her to show you just how ruthless and brutal the Death Eaters will be. With a little luck, what she can teach you will keep you alive. Now, any material requests have to come straight to me…" Colonel Bones paused as a wailing came from Amelia's pocket. Pulling out her auror badge Amelia swore, loudly. Looking up, she saw every set of eyes locked on her.

"We just lost much of the time we had. Voldemort's hit our prison, Azkaban. He's just got his best Death Eaters, his Inner Circle, back."

* * *

Far to the north east, on a tiny scrap of rock jutting out of the North Sea, Voldemort looked about with sadistic amusement at the carnage around him. Taking down the wards protecting this ancient relic had been almost child's play for him, and the Dementors had done their part well. The guards had been hunted and driven out of their holes, only to find their former servants eager for their souls. The dementors had drawn out the suffering, batting the souls back and forth between themselves before finally consuming them. The few Aurors who had arrived afterwards found themselves besieged from the start, and while they had driven the Dementors back at first, once Voldemort had come down to play they had fallen like trees before a wind.

There was little left of the five men in the squad now; he'd allowed his released Death Eaters to extract some vengeance on them with their restored wands. Slashed and broken, their bodies would serve as a reminder of his power. Their souls however would also feed the Dementors before they left. The one female Auror however was currently bound and cowering at his feet. Her fate was a much longer one. He would give her the option to join his ranks… after a suitable length of time in the Malfoy dungeons. Her resistance would directly affect the conditions of her stay.

Normally Voldemort would not offer her this chance, but he'd realised he had to gain some quality members quickly. The string of Auror raids on his forces safe houses had stripped him of much… not least of which had been ready cash, set aside for bribes and the like. Several of his regular Death Eaters had been captured with each raid… with very little loss on the Aurors side. They had even had the gall to raid the homes of several of his Inner Circle members, though the losses were not as bad as they could be, given that his Inner Circle were more proficient at hiding away the funds and items that they had been entrusted with. Except in one case: the LeStranges place had been stripped bare of everything. Voldemort was forced to face the facts: someone high level in his group, from his Inner Circle, had talked. And given her continued silence, Bella was the most likely culprit. He still had trouble believing it, given her dedication to his cause, but everything pointed to her being the source. The fact that it had been the LeStrange's place that had suffered the worse, with no evidence of the Aurors tearing the place apart, was the clincher. But why would she change sides? That was the question that Voldemort had been considering.

The showing of his minions however was most troubling… and infuriating. His Death Eaters were just not making the grade. Oh, the sight of their black robes and masks still inspired terror, but they lacked the skills, power – or intelligence – to back up the image. And with Greengrass and his men in the picture, Voldemort was starting to look substandard. _That_ could not be allowed to stand! He was going to have to make sure that Greengrass knew his place…

* * *

Harry was laughing as he landed on the grass outside the manor. Today, the 1st of August, was always going to be an easy, relaxing day for them. Especially after last night. Part of him still could not believe what 'his ladies' had done. He hadn't known where to look at first: Fleur's strip dance, Daphne and Susan's play to his left, Tracy on his right playing with herself as she watched, or Hermione's head in his lap. However, his rational side had soon been beaten into submission by his hormones and teenaged libdo.

His laughter was at recalling an exchange between Hermione and Tracy after he'd been brought to release. Fleur had been almost naked by then, and he'd been unable to take his eyes off her; she had the ability to erotically charge almost _any_ movement. But he'd heard the other two's light-hearted banter.

"Really Tracy, what's with the 'Mistress of Darkness' costume?"

"Don't you think it's appropriate for the future Mrs Black?"

"Oh the colour and sentiment's right, but with that neckline, you'll give the last Lady a heart attack!"

"Exactly. Though can a portrait have an attack?"

"I don't know, actually."

"Merlin! Hermione Granger doesn't know something! Stop the press!"

"Oi! That's it..."

Harry wasn't sure what had happened next, as Fleur had just stepped down from her pole, sans clothes, and was straddling his lap. He did know it was a non-verbal exchange though... and the next time he'd seen Hermione's face, she had black lipstick smeared across her lips.

Now though, those two and Fleur were sat on loungers outside, soaking up some sun. Normally Fleur would have joined him and the other former Gryffindor team players on their brooms; he'd learned that she too found freedom astride a broom. But having pulled a thigh muscle during her dance last night grounded her today.

It had been during breakfast that Fleur had spoken more about being a veela. The old witches tales of veela's, while blown out of proportion, did have an element of truth... one she'd tried in the past to squash in herself. As highly sexual beings, Veela's had a deserved reputation as being promiscuous. Fleur had tried to suppress such instincts in the past, wanting to make something of herself. Her parents had worked hard to give her and her sister the chance to enter Beaubuxons, and she had been determined to not disappoint them.

Now though, with him, and accepted by the other witches, she felt free to actually lower the walls, release control of her instincts and desires. Hermione in particular had welcomed the news, admitting that repressing one's inner-self was not healthy in the long run.

Fleur's reply of a passionate kiss had caused Harry's boxers to tighten uncomfortably. Katie had good-naturedly told them to 'get a room' to which Fleur had pulled back, smiled devilishly, before gently pulling Hermione towards the room they had picked. At the threshold Hermione had – with a trace of nervousness – asked Harry if he wanted to join them. He _had _been _strongly_ tempted, but he was feeling a little tired and sore from the previous night. He'd also been able to tell she'd made the offer more to hide her own nervousness at engaging in full-blown lesbian sex... something she'd confessed the other day. They all knew that for this strange family to work, they all had to be comfortable – and intimate – with all the others. Waving her off, he'd told her to enjoy the learning experience. Fleur had winked from behind his best friend; she was the only one totally at ease with the intimacy issue, and thus was perfectly suited to help the others get over their own inhibitions.

After dressing – during which he'd given a still sleeping Daphne a light swat on her up raised bum, prompting a yelp of surprise from the former Slytherin – and trying _very_ hard not to notice the sounds of feminine passion from the other bedroom, he'd corralled Luna and Katie, stating he wanted to spend the day with his new sisters. Both girls had beamed, while behind them Lily had smiled happily.

Gobbler was almost as bad for attention as Crookshanks, leading Katie to suggest that he was part cat. Luna herself had basked in the reflected attention, and it had been heart-warming to see her come out of her grief stricken shell even more. Each day the 'Loony' persona faded, and now she laughed easily, the sound light and airy, a sweet sound. Harry was honest with himself; had things been different he could easily have fallen for the blonde waif, she who saw him, without the 'Boy-Who-Lived' construct that others did. Oh he found himself falling in love with her, but it was a different kind of love to that he shared with Hermione, Daphne and the others.

In a sense, he'd also fallen in love with Katie as well, in a similar, yet different way. Having been on the Quidditch team together, they had already shared a bond of friendship, which under Wood's obsession, had turned into an almost familial one. What worried him was that she still had darkness in her eyes, lingering from that terrible night. That had vanished however when the Twins, with the other two former chasers in tow, had arrived. All four had a broom across their shoulders, while the twins carried a Quidditch case between them.

Seeing the light ignite in her eyes, Harry had quickly endorsed the idea of an impromptu pick-up quidditch game. Both Daphne and Susan were dragged into the game as well, though in neither case were they unwilling. Tonks offered to referee while Remus volunteered himself to act as commentator for the Grangers. With only eight players, they decided to limit the game to one beater, two chasers and a keeper for each side. Obviously, Fred and George took the beater positions, while Harry teamed up with Katie as chasers, leaving Susan and Daphne for the keeper slots. With only one bludger in play and no snitch, they decided to play to ten goals.

None of them took the game seriously, especially after Alicia had passed _to_ Katie for the third time. Having played with each other for five years caused both her and Angelina to struggle to remember that they were not on the same side this. The twins had more fun smashing the bludger between themselves rather than actually trying to strike the chasers. As keepers, Daphne showed herself to be more competent and confident astride a broom, but was a little more wary of having the quaffle coming at her. Harry and Katie did their best, but the other two chasers were too much 'in tune' with each other, even without Katie. The final score was ten-seven.

Behind him he heard the others land on the grass… all except Katie, who had decided to remain aloft for a bit. Harry had nodded in understanding: it had been only when he had visited the Burrow that he had been able to fly during the summer. Leaning his broom against the wall, he turned towards the table were his mum and Emma Granger were sat, intending to get a glass of cool water, when with a 'pop' Dobby appeared before him, a tray bearing one glass held aloft. A few ice cubes clinked gently in the glass.

"Master Harry requires a cold drink?"

Beaming, Harry accepted the glass. "Thanks Dobby. Just what I was thinking of." The ice chilled his lips, but the way the cold apple Tango rolled down his throat was _wonderful._

Dobby was beaming, even with his eyes almost overwhelming with tears. "Master Harry is the best Master ever!" He proclaimed before popping away.

"You certainly have some strange friends, young man." Harry turned to see Richard Granger leaning against the wall, dressed casually as he looked into the sky. From what he'd seen of the younger Granger, Harry had determined that he was certainly his fathers' son. Straight forward and to the point, but honest with it.

Harry laughed softly. "Dobby is certainly… unique. But his loyalty is absolute."

Richard chuckled. "Clearly. He's devoted to you." His eyes however were still looking into the sky. Following his gaze, Harry turned to see only Katie still flying about gracefully. "I guess a lot of the old tales are actually true, huh?"

"More or less." Harry admitted.

"You all looked to be having fun up there." Richard sighed. "I love flying myself. The freedom, the openness… you feel on top of the world."

Harry nodded, understanding the older boy. He looked again at Richard. Harry pegged him at being around twenty, maybe a tad older. "That why you join the RAF?"

Richard nodded. "More or less. I wanted to follow my Father's footsteps… but my hand-eye coordination is not up to firearms usage." He now lowered his gaze to look at Harry squarely. "Give me a plane, some warheads and a target, and I'll deliver a crater. I wish I could help you with those scum that were after my cousin… but you've got an infantry, guerrilla war."

Harry sighed as he took another drink. He froze though partway through, as a small fact came back to him. He lowered the glass slowly. "I can't help with the last two… but I think I can lend you a plane."

"Really?" An eyebrow rose, matching the disbelieving tone in the pilots voice. "How?"

Harry grinned cheekily. "Two things I've learned about my family; we don't do things normally… and we don't throw anything personally significant away. Especially if it's got value and or is useful in some way." Stepping around Richard, he started walking towards the training hall. "Follow me." Behind him Richard watched the smaller, black haired young man for a moment, then with a shrug followed.

Pacing across the flat lawn of close mown grass, Harry led him over to a building that he'd not visited yet. Tucked between the training hall and the outer wall of the gardens, the building was low but broad, with a shallow arched roof. Two large doors rested in the centre. "Harry… this looks like a hanger." Richard said quietly as they got close.

"I came across a reference that my Grandfather kept or bought the plane he'd flown in the Second World War, flying it every now and again." Harry said as he looked over the doors. "Hmm… Dobby!" Once the elf had returned Harry faced him. "Could you please ask Victor to meet us here please Dobby?"

"Dobby can do that Master Harry!" The house elf had gone almost before he'd finished speaking. A few moments later Victors lean form came striding over in an unhurried yet rapid pace.

"You called Sir?" He asked softly, before his eyes wandered to Richard, and then to the hanger they were stood outside of. "Ahh… I see. Charles old warbird. He would be thrilled if it was flown once more."

"Would he mind that it wasn't a Potter at the controls?" Harry asked nervously.

Victor's smile deepened. "As missus Hermione is your intended for Lady Potter, that makes Mister Granger here family. Charles would be the first to say that he kept this plane for situations like this."

Exhaling with relief, Harry turned to the door. "So… where are the keys?" He asked fingering the padlock that held the great doors shut.

Victor brought his hand up. Hanging from the fingertips was a key on a ring.

Once the padlock was off and the latch released, Harry found he alone could open the doors without any strain. There had been a small resistance at first, but then the two halves slid easily. "The hanger has the same rune array charms that the garages have." Victor explained softly.

Not that Richard Granger would have heard him, as his attention was focused totally on the plane that rested before him.

Harry grinned at the look of awe and excitement on the young man's face. "Can you work with that?" He asked, gesturing towards the Spitfire that filled the dimly lit space.

"Oh yeah…"

* * *

**DR: **Next time I plan on having some of that old classic idea, Animagus training. I also hope to speed through August and get the kids back to Hogwarts soon, with one or two minor diversions (the canon Giant attack, for instance... though the end result will not be canon) Till then...


	39. OWLs, Prophets, Tigers, and Other Beasts

**DR: **Okay, here's the next chapter. Sorry for the delay but in my defense it's a long one!

A quick note before we begin. To all those who've messaged me about the Cull and alternate sites for this story, thank you. Sorry if I haven't personally replied to you yet - had to focus on getting this beast done. I have now started to repost this story, uncensored, over at HPFanficArchive. I've put a direct link in my Author page here that will take you directly to the story. Only the first chapter right now (30/6/12) but I will add the other chapters every week until there matches here. I will continue to post Cure here however.

If you're a Ron fan, I'm afraid you're not going to like this chapter. While his behavior during this story is for a reason, his scores reflect how I truly think he would do on exams. Remember, this is a guy of sub-standard intelligence who doesn't revise, badgers Hermione to do his homework/copies hers, and barely pays attention in class. His own understanding of the subjects is going to be poor, and exams are based on that understanding...

* * *

The next morning Lily and Emma sat together watching the teens go through the exercises that Daniel had left for them. The two of them had established this morning ritual early on, sharing tea as they talked about mostly inconsequential topics… though the topic of their children always came up. As Emma had predicted, she and Lily got along fabulously; Lily was a kindred spirit, someone she could relate to easily and freely. Lily had also taken comfort and strength from the friendship that had formed between herself and the elder Granger woman. She had not had many female friends before… well, before certain events happened. Now, of those she had had, one was in a virtual magical coma, and the others had aged and generally moved on. Her 'interruption' counted against her in that regard, as while she had lived the years in Harry's head, she had not lived in the world as such. She had not seen or experienced the events that the others had.

Spread out on the table before her were several of the account books for the Potter Family and its investment portfolio. Without an active hand in their management, the Potter's portfolio had stagnated a bit. Fortunately, James had passed day-to-day control over to an investment team of Goblins, just before they had gone into hiding, who had skilfully managed the funds to maintain an income. Their powers were limited however, and thusly were unable to take advantage of opportunities that had come up in the years since.

In addition, there were several issues of the _Daily Prophet _scattered over the table. Her survival had reached the news, and the _Prophet_, in their own style, had coined the phrase _'Mother-who-Lived-Again'_. Of course, the _Prophet_ would not be the _Prophet _if it was in any factual, and the rumours and gossip sections were as rife as ever. Many 'Experts' had comments about how she could possibly survived, ranging from temporal displacement to a glamoured Infritus. Several raised the idea that Harry was dabbling in the Dark Arts, using unholy pacts to forcibly bring his mother back from the dead. Of course, they were not planning to let this stand. The latest issue contained their rebuttal to the stories, containing most of the truth, though they did leave out details about what Voldemort had done to enable her survival to occur.

Right then however Lily's mind was not on the tripe that made up the _Prophet_, the reports of the sporadic attacks on Muggles by Death Eaters or even the tales of the rogue Dementors falling on isolated homes to devour the inhabitants. Instead Lily was wrestling internally with several issues… foremost of which was how much to trust her favourite professor and friend. Minerva McGonagall had been a witch she had trusted completely, but certain events in her son's life had her questioning her old Head of House. She tried to put such thoughts aside, as Minerva had been a tremendous help since her Return… but these small doubts kept on creeping back in.

"Penny for them?" Emma's voice drew her attention outwards towards the other woman. Seeing her knowing look, Lily sighed.

"It's just… I find myself doubting Professor McGonagall. Don't get me wrong, I would trust her with my life in a fight… but certain actions of hers in the last few years have me… concerned." Lily had found Emma Granger was filling the role that Petunia should have filled, that of an older sister and confidant. Someone she could unload some of the mental burdens she carried to, even if only for a short while.

Emma nodded slowly. "I know that she's certainly Hermione's favourite teacher. Perhaps her idol at one time."

Lily nodded in reply. "Harry's fond of her as well. But…"

"Lily." Emma cut in. "Talk to her about your concerns. It may be that she had perfectly rational reasons for her actions. But you'll never know until you ask." Emma leaned back, her brow furrowed in thought. "I have noticed that she's seems… eager, to do what she can for Harry. Maybe she realises just how she - possibly inadvertently - wronged him, and wishes to make amends."

Lily slumped back. "You're right. I just… She was a close friend before. I feel terrible doubting her now…"

At that moment the ghostly form of Raknor rose up from the centre of the table. _"Mistress Lily… The professor wishes to floo in."_

Lily sighed. "Let her pass." The dragon spirit nodded before fading away.

"I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that…" Emma commented, her eyes still on the space where the spirit had resided.

Footsteps prompted Lily to look over her shoulder, to see Emily leading McGonagall out onto the patio area. "Hello Lily, Mrs Granger." The older witch greeted them, before her eyes moved up to watch the teens. "It's nice to see them so… dedicated."

"Yes, well… Harry feels that he has to be doing _something_, and the others will follow him to hell and back." Lily commented. She looked the older witch up and down. "Not to be blunt Minerva, but…"

"…Why am I here?" McGonagall finished for her with a twitch at the corners of her mouth. "Several reasons actually. OWL results arrived last night. I decided to bring the results for this lot myself, as I was coming over later anyway…" Her eyes lingered on Harry for a moment. "There is also a matter I need to discuss with your son as well."

"Concerning?" There was no mistaking the command in Lily's tone.

McGonagall sighed. "Lily… I wanted to make Harry Prefect last summer, but Albus overruled me. I see now that I should have stood my ground on that issue, and wish to rectify that mistake."

Lily nodded slowly. "Funny you should say that…" She looked up at her former Head of House. "You know that I was with Harry throughout his life till this summer. I saw what he saw. And, frankly Minerva, some of your actions towards him…"

McGonagall sighed once more, sinking into one of the free chairs with a look of resignation. "You don't think I haven't realised my mistakes? I know my biggest was following Albus's lead, even when my own instincts were telling me otherwise…"

"That, I do understand… and don't entirely blame you for." Lily cut in. "He's been such a figurehead and leader for the Magical world for so long, the legend is almost blinding."

McGonagall nodded. "He always was so _sure_, so confident, that it was all too easy to believe that yes, he really _did_ know what was for the best. He's been proven right in the past, how could I have known that this time would be any different?"

"You couldn't." Emma softly answered, understanding where the older woman was coming from. McGonagall smiled slightly in reply, before looking at Lily once more.

"But there are other things that are bothering you, aren't there?" She asked quietly, a hint of nervousness in her tone.

Lily nodded. "I'm afraid so. First Year, the detention in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid."

"Ah. Well… I was rather… put out, by their rule breaking. I just… having Harry and Hermione be caught leaving the Astronomy Tower that late… it threw me." McGonagall flushed lightly. "I just could not believe that two children that young could possibly…" She trailed off for a moment. "I admit, I over reacted."

Emma was looking between the two with confusion written across her face. "I'm missing something here…"

Lily chuckled. "The Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts has gained a reputation as a make-out spot for courting couples."

"Oh…" was Emma's reply.

"Afterwards… I knew that the headmaster had tasked Hagrid with something, and I thought that some hard work would teach all of them a lesson. Mr Malfoy in particular, I have to say." McGonagall continued after a moment. "I had no idea his task was in the forest… but I have to point out something." Her expression hardened. "None of them would have come to any harm with him. Hagrid is the gamekeeper of Hogwarts for a very good reason. Very few creatures will risk conflict, even with a half giant."

Lily had to concede the point. Giants were considered some of the most dangerous creatures in the world for some very good reasons. Even a half giant had their natural resistance to damage, vastly greater strength than a human and a constitution that was nigh on impervious to most poisons and venoms. She only had to think back to the night when Harry witnessed Umbridge's attempt to take Hagrid away by force. The gentle half-giant had taken multiple stunners without slowing down, and could have broken any of the four aurors in two like a twig. It was a credit to his nature that he'd focused solely on evasion and escaping to the forest.

Seeing the teens had finished their exercises and were approaching the three women, Lily looked at the professor. "May I suggest we continue this discussion this evening?"

McGonagall nodded. "An excellent suggestion Lily."

"Hello Professor." Harry called as he stepped onto the patio. "Is it that time already?"

The stern professors lips twitched. "No Mister Potter, I arrived early. I decided to save some owls the trip."

"Owls? Trip?" Hermione asked, before her jaw dropped and eyes widened in shock. "Our OWL results!" You have them?"

"Yes I do Miss Granger." McGonagall's lips twitched again. "but before I hand them out, may I suggest a wash?" Her eyebrow arched at the gathered sweat-soaked teens, prompting a couple to blush.

Harry grinned in reply. "Sure. Not like we can't wait a couple more minutes…" He then looked at Hermione, who appeared to be on the verge of hyperventilating. "Well, I think we can…"

"Relax Harry." Fleur said softly as she wrapped an arm around the younger witch. "I'll make zure she calms down." With a firm hand the older blond drew Hermione inside. The other teens were smiling and chuckling as they followed the pair.

Emma sighed in fond exasperation. "She's always been that way. Every test, every exam she drives herself into a frenzy of worry. Never mind that she's always been top of the class, she always convinces herself that she's failed every test."

"Yes, well, better that way than some others I could mention." McGonagall replied, her brow furrowing. At Lily's raised brow, she explained. "I had a look over the results before sealing the envelopes. I'm afraid that one member of my House has achieved the record for the worst score ever on the OWLs."

"Let me guess…" Lily asked softly. "Ronald Weasley."

McGonagall nodded reluctantly. "I would not want to be anywhere near the Burrow when Molly sees those results…"

* * *

At that moment one Hogwarts owl was approaching the ramshackle building that was The Burrow. It's target person was sat at the kitchen table, doing what he did by default, eating. Bustling around the kitchen Molly Weasley was unusually quiet, her thoughts inwards. The chastisement from her husband still stung, though he had relented after two days and allowed her to start cooking with her wand again: no-one but Ronald could eat what she produced without it. However, he always watched her, and _always_ reclaimed it after the meal. The chores she normally did were much more tiresome and irritating when done by hand.

The attack of the Death Eaters also preyed on her mind. All her fears and past pain had returned with a vengeance, before her family had struck back. Even baby Ginny had fought, despite Molly's strictest instructions to go hide in her room until it was over. Arthur however had allowed her to stay… which had caused Molly to become seriously worried for her precious daughters health when one of her spells struck that Death Eater in the gut. And it had not been a stunner or playground hex… it had been the blasting curse. That Death Eater had, obviously, not taken any further part in the battle.

The swarm of Dementors had locked her up with fear and anguish, but the twins – the irresponsible, lazy, and totally childish Twins – had driven them away. Even hurt them, given some of the sounds made. They had used patronus's, but had also tossed or banished items from the upper windows at any that got too close, more often than not hitting them. Perhaps all that time playing Beater for Quidditch was time well spent after all. She'd not seen all the effects they had done, but certainly at least a couple had retreated with their tattered robes on fire.

Ronald however, had been a real disappointment. Despite everything he'd done in the past, he'd been less that effective. His spells rarely reached the Death Eaters or the circling dementors, and even when they did the effects were much less that hoped for. Molly was starting to consider that her seventh son was not the wizard she'd hoped, and he'd claimed, to be…

The faint flutter of wings alerted her to the arrival of an owl, and she turned to see a plain tawny owl land on the kitchen table next to her son in question… who was currently stuffing his face once more on a third helping of breakfast. The owl blinked and shuffled, before turning its head away slightly and lifting a leg. On it the tightly wound scroll was clearly visible.

"Ronald, you've got mail." She said aloud. After a few seconds Ron looked up at her blankly, before his face turned to the waiting owl. Molly watched uneasy at his total lack of reaction. There was no sign of any emotion on his face as he stared at the owl with blank eyes.

Then he turned back to his plate and started eating again, totally ignoring the owl.

"Ronald! Take your letter!" Molly scolded, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at him.

Her anger faded however when he looked back at her sharply, his gaze almost empty. It was like looking into the face of a puppet. There was almost nothing of the boy she'd thought she'd known and raised in his eyes. Turing his gaze on the owl, his hand swept out and yanked the letter from the owl's leg, nearly dislocating it in the process and drawing a sharp squawk of pain from the owl. He tossed the letter onto the table before cramming the rest of his food into his mouth. The Owl itself hobbled away from him, barking in anger and pain, before flying off. Molly was so shocked at his callousness that she didn't react when he stood up and stomped off, his feet thudding on the stairs.

After a few moments Molly shook herself, her anger bristling over. What had gotten into that boy? Ever since he got back this year he'd been acting stranger and stranger. First he'd seemed to slide back into his infant years mentally, before he'd turned moody and surly. Lately he'd been quiet and withdrawn, seeming to bare tolerate being around his family. She used to be able to read him like a book, and know exactly what was going in his head. But lately he'd become a blank wall or slate…

Sighing, Molly sat down at the table, resolving to speak with him later. Picking up the later, her breath escaped in a gasp as she recognised the envelope. It was his OWL results.

With trembling fingers Molly broke the seal before pulling out the parchment. She frowned however when she realised that there was a second sheet of parchment with the results. Curious she opened the note.

'_Mister Weasley,_

'_As your Head of House and Deputy Headmistress, I have to say how disappointed I am with your results. As of a result of such, I can no longer allow you to retain the position of Prefect for the coming year. Your results give me grave concern about not only your study habits, but your understanding of magic in general. As such, I will be visiting your home within the next week to discuss with you and your parents the possibility of you being held back a year and resitting your OWLs._

'_Professor McGonagall_

'_Head of Gryffindor House_

'_Deputy Headmistress'_

Molly's eyes were now wide with horror and anger. Her hands shook as she unfolded the results sheet… but what she saw caused all the blood flow to reverse.

_**O**rdinary **W**izard **L**evel Results_

_Ronald Billus Weasley_

…_ … … … … …_

_Astronomy 19% **D**_

_Care of Magical Creatures 45% **P**_

_Charms 35% **P**_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts 68% **A**_

_Divination 9% **T**_

_Herbology 26% **D**_

_History of Magic 5% **T**_

_Potions 21% **D**_

_Transfiguration 32% **P**_

…_ … … … … …_

_You have achieved **1** OWL_

_Scoring:_

_Passing Marks (worth 1 OWL each)_

_90% - 100% **O**utstanding_

_75% - 90% **E**xceeds Expectations_

_50% - 75% **A**cceptable_

_Failing Marks (worth nothing)_

_30% - 50% **P**oor_

_10% - 30% **D**readful_

_0% - 10% **T**roll_

Molly re-read the parchment, unable to believe what she was seeing. No, it couldn't be saying what it did, could it? She closed her eyes, counted to ten, then opened them again. The parchment was the same as before.

All the anger and resentment that had been bubbling away within her for the last couple of weeks now found an outlet. Her face turned the famous Weasley red as her free hand curled into a fist. "RONALD BILLIUS WEASLEY! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

Within the next five seconds, the area within a mile of the Burrow became devoid of life… as every creature fled from whatever could create such a roar of rage.

* * *

"'ermione, relax!" Fleur was starting to get exasperated at Hermione's nervous pacing and panicking. She had grown very fond of the younger brunette. Her intelligence and perception were a welcome breath of fresh air, allowing the two of them to connect on an intellectual level over a range of topics. Though she still had a tendency to cling to the written word of books, Hermione was well informed on a whole range of topics, both typical and eclectic. The two had similar childhoods as well, allowing them to understand where the other was coming from. While Hermione had been isolated because of her intellect and maturity, Fleur's beauty and heritage had achieved the same result. It was something they also both shared with Harry, and to an extend the other teens. Only Daphne out of their forming family had siblings, but as the eldest she'd had to be the 'big sister' for them.

Oh they all had traits that were not so welcome. Fleur knew hers all too well. It had been something she'd needed to learn at a young age, to control her temper. Even now it was still something she had to work on. But right now she was getting first-hand experience of 'Nightmare' Hermione.

"Relax? How can I relax Fleur? These are our OWLs!" Hermione was pacing back and worth, her eyes wide with worry. "These'll determine the course of the rest of our lives!"

"I thought you had bigger things to 'orry about." Fleur smiled in reply. "A certain 'ark Lord, perhaps?"

"Harry'll beat him." Hermione waved off Fleur. "I know he will. But our OWL's… Fleur, they will affect our lives _after _Voldemort!"

"Dieu me donnera la force… 'Ermione, you'll not _get _to 'hat life if you give yourself a 'eart attack!"

Hermione paused in her pacing, Fleur's words slipping past her panic and worry. Intellectually, she knew that she had a bad tendency to worry about results. It had been one of the few things she'd been able to hold up as achievements before Hogwarts, a way to feel better about herself when all the other kids were teasing her. Having good marks had become something she could be proud of. But it had also become a weakness, ever since that one day. She'd not told anyone, not even her parents, about that day when one of the more violent bullies had 'accidently' hit her in the eyes with a 'carelessly' thrown eraser during a short test in class. Hermione had been forced to go to the school nurse, and thus abandon the test, earning no mark. The others had teased her mercilessly about that for months, that even with her 'over inflated brain' she could still fail a test. Ever since it had become a deeply rooted nightmare within her psyche, hence her worry over results, which had grown into full-fledged panic over the years.

But, like all things, knowing something on an intellectual level was a totally different thing to actually dealing with it in practice. No matter how much she tried that nightmare rose up from the depths, overriding her logic and reason, high jacking her emotions and turning her into what she was now. "Fleur… I can't help it."

"Then don't _think_ about them!" The French witch commanded softly. Waving towards the en-suite bathroom, she sat back on her bed. "Go on, 'ake a shower an' cool off. You need et more 'han I."

Nodding distractedly, Hermione moved through the doorway, stripping off as she did. One foot kicked the door gently closed behind her.

Fleur sat back and waited, listening carefully. Sure enough, the shower began to run, but she could make out the sounds of bare feet pacing across the tiled floor. Shaking her head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, she stood up, removing her own clothes as she did. Gently pushing the door open enough to slip through, she watched Hermione pace a little more before stepping in behind the naked younger witch and laying a hand on her back.

"Epp! Fleur what?"

"'ermione, you have to relax!" Fleur's voice was as firm as her pressure on her, driving Hermione into the shower. She didn't let up until they were both under the spray, and Hermione's hands came up to press against the wall. Tipping her head back Fleur allowed the water to run through her hair before reaching out for the body lotion. Squeezing a large helping into her hand she began to lather up Hermione's back. "You 'eed someone to wash your back."

"Um, Fleur, I can… eppp!"

"You are not _relaxing_!"

"Fleur… what are you doing?" She hissed as she felt both hands move, stroking her skin.

"You have far too much tension within you 'ermione…" Fleur half whispered as her hands roamed. "I could tell you were uncertain yesterday…"

Hermione groaned lightly, her eyes flickering closed as she thought back to the previous morning. Fleur was not wrong when she said that Hermione had been uncertain about being intimate with another woman, without Harry involved. All her previous experiences had involved him in some way. But Fleur had been about to be denied. Clearly she'd gotten herself worked up, and now needed the release. It was ironic, in a way, as had she been clamping down on her vela instincts as she had in the past, she'd have been able to reign herself in. But she'd relaxed her control, at Hermione's urging.

There was no more talking for several minutes after that, as first Hermione then Fleur reached the heights of passion. Looking at her in the eye, Fleur tossed her now soaked through hair over her shoulder. "So… will you be calm now?" Her lips twitched. "Or do I need to relax you further?"

Hermione sighed as she turned to face Fleur more. "I'll be all right. Thanks Fleur… I just…"

Fleur waved her off. "You're welcome. I feel for you almost as I feel for 'Arry." Hermione gaped at her at that as a small frown formed on her face as her mind wandered. "zough… Hermione, may I ask a personal question?"

"Sure." Hermione replied, slightly nervously.

Fleur sighed as she tried to think of a delicate way to put her thoughts. "I would 'ike to know… when you plan to have 'Arry's… children?"

"What?" Hermione spluttered for a moment. "Why are you even asking that?"

Fleur sighed. "Hermione… my desire and love for 'Arry are two separate things. I do love him; he is very easy to love, non?" At a nod she continued. "But my Veela desire for 'im… it is based in a desire to breed. He is a powerful, strong, fine young man. Any offspring of his will be just as so. My acknowledging of him as my mate, has increased that desire. I know you three had decided to allow you to be the first, and I do not wish to take your prerogative. But…" Her hand drifted down to her smooth, flat belly. "…ze desire burns so."

Hermione's eyes followed her hand down, her thoughts turning inward. In her mind's eye Hermione tried to picture a pregnant Fleur stood before her, her stomach swollen with Harry's child. She shivered a little as a flush came over her at the erotic – and arousing – nature of the image.

She looked back into Fleur's eyes. "Fleur… I wasn't planning on children for a while yet. I had thought to wait for a couple of years after graduating…" Fleur nodded in understanding, though could not quite hide the disappointment before Hermione continued. "…But that was before we found this place. Now, we have the space needed. I'm not having his kids until after we're married and have graduated… but there's nothing saying it has to be nine months after that."

Fleur smiled now as Hermione laid her hand over her own where it still rested against her belly. "I promise, once we've confirmed I'm carrying, you'll get your own in here."

Fleur grinned at her. "Thank you! I'm looking forward to that day."

Hermione sighed happily, letting one hand trail across her own stomach. "Having Harry's kids was always the plan Fleur."

"Then I will forwards to us all having lots and lots of his babies."

"I wouldn't go that far." Hermione laughed. "I'm not turning into Molly."

"You wouldn't." Fleur said softly but seriously. "You're a good person Hermione."

Hermione blushed. "Thanks Fleur." Sighing she stepped back, her hands coming up to wash her hair. "We should hurry, before they start to wonder what's keeping us."

Fleur nodded in recognition of Hermione's words, even though she wanted nothing more to drag the brunette down onto the shower floor and ravish her then and there. Soaping herself, Fleur began to wash, her thoughts drifting towards vision of them both with child…

* * *

The Dining Hall had become the usual place for everyone to gather for important meetings and the like. Learning their children's OWL results certainly fell into that category, and so when the students came down they found all their families waiting for them. Even Madam Longbottom was there, seated beside Madam Bones. Pausing in the doorway, Harry's eyes raced about, taking note of who else was here. The whole Granger family, Daniel and Richard included, were to his right, while Remus and his mum were to the left. Tonks was sat with the last Marauder, while her parents were close by. Bella and Cissa were sat with them, united with their elder sister. The only one's not sitting were Victor and Emily next to the entrance to the kitchen, and Professor McGonagall, who was close by, the envelopes held in her hand.

"Good, now that you are all here…" She began, her words quietening all the murmuring conversation. Stepping forwards, she passed out the results to all seven students before stepping to one side slightly, letting them take centre stage.

For a long moment no one spoke or moved.

"Well, go on, open them!" Tonks called out. "The suspense is killing me here!" A few chuckles rose at her attempt to break the tension that permeated the large room.

Sighing, Harry turned the envelope over. "I'll go first." He said with a note of resignation in his voice.

"Harry?" His mum's voice made him pause before he could unfurl the results. When he looked up at her, Lily smiled warmly. "It doesn't matter what you got in the end." Feeling his mother unconditional approval and support settled Harry's nerves, and he smiled back before flipping the results open.

_**O**rdinary **W**izard **L**evel Results_

_Harry James Potter_

…_ … … … … …_

_Astronomy 62% **A**_

_Care of Magical Creatures 79% **E**_

_Charms 77% **E**_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts 112% **O+H**_

_Divination 46% **P**_

_Herbology 75% **E**_

_History of Magic 29% **D**_

_Potions 76% **E**_

_Transfiguration 83% **E**_

…_ … … … … …_

_You have achieved **8** OWLs_

_Scoring:_

_Passing Marks (worth 1 OWL each)_

_90% - 100% **O**utstanding_

_75% - 90% **E**xceeds Expectations_

_50% - 75% **A**cceptable_

_Failing Marks (worth nothing)_

_30% - 50% **P**oor_

_10% - 30% **D**readful_

_0% - 10% **T**roll_

…_ … …_

_**H** – **H**onours as best in year for subject_

_Scoring over 100% grants an extra OWL_

Looking back up, he took in the anxious faces. "Seven out of nine passed." He revealed. "Five Exceeds, an Acceptable and an Outstanding."

"Let me guess, Defence?" Remus asked smiling. Harry just nodded as Hermione came up to stand beside him.

"Harry! That's not just an Outstanding! That's an Outstanding with Honours! And it's a hundred plus score to boot! Well done!" She flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly, pressing her lips to his cheek briefly. A small sigh escaped her lips as she looked at his results again. "though it's a shame about that Divination score. So close…"

He looked at her curiously. "You're not going to scold me about History?"

Hermione huffed. "Harry, remember I was in the hall with you during that exam. I recall what happened clearly." They both were quiet for a moment. "Honestly, I think you would have passed that one otherwise. And if that foul toad hadn't gone after Hagrid during our Astronomy exam, you'd have gotten another Exceeds as well."

Another arm moved around his shoulders, prompting Harry to look to see his mother had joined them. "Well done Harry." She beamed at him. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks mum." Harry flushed. "Sorry I couldn't do better…"

"Harry… I know, better than most, just how many issues you've had over the last few years." She said softly. "While a raft of Outstandings would have been nice, I'm happy you passed." Her eyes now turned to Hermione. "Now you, Miss Granger… I'd be very shocked to see you get anything less than Outstanding in everything."

Hermione looked caught out, her eyes wide and startled, like a deer caught in headlights. Chuckling, Harry held out his free hand. "Want me to open it for you?"

His question snapped her out of her state. "No. Thanks for the offer, but…" Hermione took several deep breaths before opening her results. Unable to resist, Harry leaned over to look at her parchment. His jaw dropped.

_**O**rdinary **W**izard **L**evel Results_

_Hermione Jane Granger_

…_ … … … … …_

_Ancient Runes 99% **OH**_

_Arithmancy 94% **O**_

_Astronomy 97% **OH**_

_Care of Magical Creatures 91% **O**_

_Charms 98% **OH**_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts 90% **O**_

_Herbology 92% **O**_

_History of Magic 95% **OH**_

_Muggle Studies 215% **O+H**_

_Potions 93% **O**_

_Transfiguration 97% **OH**_

…_ … … … … …_

_You have achieved **12** OWLs_

…

"Well?" Emma called from the side. "How'd she do?" There was a note of concern in her voice.

Harry slowly turned to look at his best friend. "How the hell did even you score _over two hundred_ per cent on a test?"

"What?" Tonks yelped before falling from her chair. Nearly everyone else was looking at the two with equal amounts of shock. Strangely, Luna wasn't. Just smiling as if she'd known all along.

Lily moved round to be behind them both so she could see Hermione's results. After a moment she snorted. "Okay, now I'm jealous." At Hermione's look of confusion Lily explained. "You've beaten me in nearly every category, and I broke the last record holder."

Remus gasped. "She really beat you Lil's?"

Lily nodded. "Everything bar Defence. Only just scraped an '**O**' there my dear." The next second Lily smiled and hugged the younger witch. "Well done Hermione."

Daphne chuckled from the side, having moved up to see. "Six Honours Hermione? Leave some for us will you?" She teased lightly. Hermione flushed red even as she continued to stare at the parchment in her hands.

Fleur leaning over to whisper in her ear in her "Told you." Was the only thing that snapped her out of her shock and released her emotions. Letting out a very un-Hermione like whoop of joy, she ran over to her parents, who embraced her warmly.

Tonks, having regained her seat, now spoke up. "So, who's next?"

Susan stepped forwards. "May as well be me…" She said as she pulled out her own results. After a few longs moments, she looked up, a grin splitting her face. "I got all ten! Two '**A**'s, six Exceeds and a pair of Outstanding's!" The joy in her eyes was clear and vibrant, before she spun to face Harry. "Thank you Harry!" She said before kissing him soundly.

Once she let up Harry nearly staggered backwards, a happily confused expression on his face. "Er, not that I'm complaining, but what did I do?"

Susan giggled. "Thank's to your teaching the DA, I got an Outstanding on my Defence score! I just know that my theory was shaky, but the practical was so easy! And it's all thanks to you!" As she hugged him again, Harry was able to get a look at her scores.

_**O**rdinary **W**izard **L**evel Results_

_Susan Marie Bones_

…_ … … … … …_

_Arithmancy 84% **E**_

_Astronomy 63% **A**_

_Care of Magical Creatures 77% **E**_

_Charms 96% **O**_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts 92% **O**_

_Herbology 80% **E**_

_History of Magic 76% **E**_

_Muggle Studies 81% **E**_

_Potions 83% **E**_

_Transfiguration 74% **A**_

…_ … … … … …_

_You have achieved **10** OWLs_

…

As Susan rushed over towards her aunt, Daphne smiled wistfully. "I guess it's my turn, huh?" She asked rhetorically.

Harry smiled reassuringly at her. "You'll have passed no problem Daphne. You're nearly as smart as Hermione."

Daphne's eyes turned misty. "Thanks Harry." After taking a deep breath to steady herself, she pulled her results… but then didn't open them. After several seconds, she held the still folded parchment to Harry. "I… I can't. Open it for me, please?"

Harry smiled as he took the parchment. "Sure." Opening the sheet he glanced down.

_**O**rdinary **W**izard **L**evel Results_

_Daphne Elen Greengrass_

…_ … … … … …_

_Ancient Runes 92% **O**_

_Arithmancy 99% **OH**_

_Astronomy 94% **O**_

_Care of Magical Creatures 67% **A**_

_Charms 95% **O**_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts 77% **E**_

_Herbology 78% **E**_

_History of Magic 75% **E**_

_Potions 91% **O**_

_Transfiguration 87% **E**_

…_ … … … … …_

_You have achieved **10** OWLs_

…

"Hmm. I have to say Miss Greengrass, your defence score is a little… lacking." He started.

"What?" She yelped before almost snatching the parchment back. After a few seconds she glared at him. "Don't do that to me again!"

Harry nodded. "Okay." Then he half dived forward to swoop her up in a hug. "Well done!" He held her tight, lifting her feet off the ground as he spun around. Daphne yelped as she clung to him as he did, while laughter and cheering resounded from around them.

After he set her down, Daphne moved towards her mother and sisters, all of whom crowded round her to see her results. Harry smiled, a little wistfully, as he watched her grandfather kiss her softly on the head once he'd seen her scores. Feeling a presence next to him, he turned his head to see Neville stood by him, looking back.

"I know, Harry." Was all he said. Harry nodded in understanding.

Looking at the envelope in his friends hand, Harry waved a hand. "Well, what about you mate?"

Neville looked at the envelope himself before sighing. "Well, I know I passed Herbology, but I'm dreading the Potions and Defence scores…"

"Hey…" Harry placed a hand on the others boy's shoulder. "You're a lot better than you think you are Neville. Come on, have a little faith in yourself."

Sighing once more, Neville opened the envelope. "Well, let's see the bad news…" He trailed off however as he looked over his results. "Well… that's, unexpected." He said quietly after several seconds. Curious Harry stepped over to see.

_**O**rdinary **W**izard **L**evel Results_

_Neville Albert Longbottom_

…_ … … … … …_

_Astronomy 62% **A**_

_Care of Magical Creatures 76% **E**_

_Charms 78% **E**_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts 91% **O**_

_Herbology 143% **O+H**_

_History of Magic 64% **A**_

_Muggle Studies 47% **P**_

_Potions 54% **A**_

_Transfiguration 73% **A**_

…_ … … … … …_

_You have achieved **9** OWLs_

…

"Way to go Neville!" Harry whooped, clapping him on the back. "What did I just tell you? You scored better than I did."

Neville looked at him in confusion. "You got more Exceeds."

"But you've got two Outstanding's. Plus an extra OWL point." Harry countered grinning.

"Boys." Lily laid an arm around both of them. "It's not the final score that matters. What matters is that you passed. Though, an Honours in a subject is nothing to sneer at." Smiling she kissed Neville's forehead. "Well done. Alice would be so proud."

Neville sniffed, his eyes misty. "Thanks Mrs Potter. I mean… Auntie Lily." He corrected himself at her mock stern look. She'd been telling him to call her that ever since he'd joined the training sessions.

"OH MERLIN!"

The excited shriek was all the warning they got before a blond haired bombshell jumped all over Neville. "I passed everything!" Hannah's voice came from the now bouncing pair, brimming over with joy. Suddenly she stopped her jumping, staring into her betrothed's eyes, before kissing him passionately. With her arms around Neville's neck, Harry was able to get a good look at her scores.

_**O**rdinary **W**izard **L**evel Results_

_Hannah Mary Abbot_

…_ … … … … …_

_Ancient Runes 68% **A**_

_Astronomy 76% **E**_

_Care of Magical Creatures 65% **A**_

_Charms 81% **E**_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts 87% **E**_

_Herbology 86% **E**_

_History of Magic 61% **A**_

_Muggle Studies 68% **A**_

_Potions 79% **E**_

_Transfiguration 67% **A**_

…_ … … … … …_

_You have achieved **10** OWLs_

…

Once the pair separated Harry nodded towards the sheet. "Not too shabby at all Miss Abbot." He said with a grin. Hannah blushed brilliantly at his words.

"Hey Harry, you've already got five witches. Back off. This one's mine." Neville cut in playfully, grinning happily.

"Wouldn't even think it Neville." Harry chuckled. "I'd never survive what they'd do to me!" Laughter filled the hall at his joke. Off to the side Victor and Emily smiled as they looked at each other happily. It had been far too long since the manor had echoed with the sound of laughter.

As the laughter ebbed Tracy sighed. "Guess it's my turn now." She said softly before withdrawing her results. Seeing her hesitate, Harry moved over to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Tracy smiled at him warmly for his act before she flipped the results open.

_**O**rdinary **W**izard **L**evel Results_

_Tracy Elizabeth Davis_

…_ … … … … …_

_Ancient Runes 81% **E**_

_Astronomy 68% **A**_

_Care of Magical Creatures 74% **A**_

_Charms 83% **E**_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts 72% **A**_

_Herbology 82% **E**_

_History of Magic 61% **A**_

_Potions 95% **OH**_

_Transfiguration 73% **A**_

…_ … … … … …_

_You have achieved **9** OWLs_

…

Beaming, Harry kissed her on the cheek. "Well done." Tracy flushed crimson at the attention as Hermione came over to look at her results as well.

A small smile was on McGonagall's face as she approached once more. "Yes, well done each and every one of you. I was very impressed with the results of everyone here. I hope to see NEWT scores of equal achievement, at least."

Harry grinned as he continued to hold Hermione and Tracy. "We'll do our best Professor. At least I shouldn't have a Voldemort vision pushed into my mind during an exam again."

Her lips twitched. "I would hope that that issue will be resolved before then, Lord Potter."

Harry grimaced slightly. "Can we drop the 'Lord' thing, at least between us?"

"Harry... you're going to have to get used to it." Daphne stepped over, her tone slightly reproaching. "You are a Lord now, and to not respect that is an insult to you, the title, and your family." Her expression softened. "Informally, between friends and family it's okay to drop the titles. But in formal settings you should accept the usage of your title.

Harry sighed, hanging his head. "Okay Daphne, point taken. I just have visions of Ron's head exploding, to say nothing of Malfoy's reaction."

Daphne cocked her head to one side. "Weasley losing his head would be a loss... why?"

"It's not like he uses it for anything besides eating." Susan chipped in. "In fact, without it he could just pour food straight down into his gullet."

Harry blanched. "Thank you for that mental image Susan."

"Rest assured that as long you are my student, you will always be Mr Potter to me." McGonagall said softly. After a moment's hesitation she pressed on. "It is fortunate that you have brought up Mr Weasley in fact. Due to his results, I cannot in good conscious allow him to remain Prefect. To be honest he was not my choice for Prefect last year. I wanted to give the badge, and the honour, to you Harry. But I was overruled." Her hand dipped into her pocket. "I hope that you will accept both my apologies for not fighting Albus more last year, and this." Held out in her hand was the Prefect Badge, gleaming slightly in the light.

Eyes turned to look at Harry, each showing a range of emotions. Harry however had a blank expression on his face as he thought about what McGonagall was offering. Did he want this? The responsibility, the pressure? Should he really take on this role, as well as everything else he had now? He bowed his head in thought.

Around him the tension rose. Both Daphne and Hermione felt that he should, and had the urge to tell him so, but both held back. Hermione because she knew Harry did not respond well to pressure, while Daphne felt that it had to be his choice.

Lily knew he could go either way. Personally she knew it would be a good learning experience for him, but no matter which way he chose she would support him.

Finally he looked up to meet the professors gaze. "Professor McGonagall, I accept both your apologies... and the responsibility." He held out his hand, palm up.

Smiling, McGonagall laid the badge in his hand. "Thank you Harry. You _earned _that badge, more times than I can count. It was yours by right last year. You have all the qualities for the position... and for Head Boy."

Harry smiled, but couldn't reply as he was engulfed by hugs from the young women around him. With a fond expression at his predicament, McGonagall turned to look at one of the onlookers. "With Harry as Prefect, I cannot ask him to also shoulder the burden of Quidditch Captain. Thus, there is only one person who has the experience needed for the role…" She held out her hand towards Katie. Gleaming in her palm was another badge, that of Team Captain.

Katie looked between McGonagall and the badge several times. "But, I mean…"

"Take it Katie." Harry called from his cluster. "I may have been on the team almost as long as you, but I don't recall anything about Woods plays or tactics. I'd just muck things up." He chuckled then. "In fact, the only more obsessed with Quidditch than Wood is Ron."

"Yes, I've noticed. However, Mr Weasley has only been on the team a year, and had a… variable one at that." McGonagall commented. "Besides, his grades means that he has to focus on them to the exclusion of all else." She refocused her attention on Katie. "Miss Bell however, I am confident can juggle the demands of Team Captain and her studies successfully."

Slowly Katie reached out and took the badge. "I… I hope I don't disappoint you Professor."

"You could only do that if you don't do your best." Was her reply.

* * *

After lunch the student group gathered in one of the studies in the east wing, underneath the guest rooms off the Grand Hall. They had been using this room for all their summer classes, echoing its use in years gone by, back when the Potter House Troops were drilled and instructed in the wing.

Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the room, looking them over. It pleased her to see nothing but interested, alert faces, a refreshing change from her normal classes. Remus was sat to one side, ready to assist as needed.

"The Angimagus Transformation is one of the most advanced fields of magic in Transfiguration. Normally I would only bring this topic up in your seventh year, but given not only your progress this summer, but also your past academic records..." Harry lowered his eyes at that, but raised them again when Hermione touched him gently on the back of the hand. "...and your personal stakes in the matter..." her eyes were on Harry as her tone softened "...I am willing to give you direction.

"Now, due to my duties at Hogwarts, I cannot give you the constant supervision and direction that I would like. Fortunately, Mr Lupin here has offered to do so in my stead." At their looks, Remus nodded and gave a quick thumbs up. _'Makes sense.'_ Hermione thought. _'He's already assisted one group achieve this feat... though I wonder...'_

"Now... the first stage of the entire process is to find one's inner animal form. There are various ways of doing this. The accepted way, and the most often used, is via a potion induced dream state. This is the Ministry Approved method. However, this method is the weakest, as it gives you only a general feel for what type of animal your form would be. It also suppresses the instinctive understanding of the animal form."

"Why Professor?" Hermione asked, looking scandalised. "Surely it would only benefit those attempting to find their forms?"

McGonagall nodded towards her favourite student. "You are on the right track there Miss Granger. I should not be telling you this, but the main reason for the poor image formed during the dream is due to the Ministry approving an inferior potion. Think about it for a moment; An accomplished and skilled animagus can take almost anything they are wearing or carrying with them when they change. The tales of 'cat burglars' were started by a string of burglaries were carried out by a small number of cat-form animaguses; they used their form to enter and exit the property, taking their loot with them when they escaped the scene of the crime. In a similar vein, an assassin could infiltrate a heavily warded manor, kill their target, and escape again in their form with no one wiser."

"Surely there are spells to detect someone in an animal form?" Tracy asked, her expression having changed from mild interest to intrigued.

McGonagall smiled sadly. "No, though there have been a few half-hearted attempts to craft one. The Ministry does require any witch or wizard who achieves the Animagus Transformation to register with them; failure to do so carries a steep fine."

Harry scowled. "So instead of actually making an effort and improve themselves, they made it harder for people to do it?"

"Correct Mister Potter. Fortunately for you, I am not bound by Ministry regulations." Seeing a familiar look on Hermione's face, McGonagall paused. "You have another question Miss Granger?"

Hermione sighed. "I was just wondering how the instinct suppression you mentioned is involved..."

McGonagall sighed. "That is, as Albus once said, a case of people doing what is easy instead of what is right. In theory, any person, even muggles, can achieve an animagus form. A muggle would require to partake of a magical substance to 'kick start' the change, but they could do it. Force of will and understanding are the key parts of this practice.

"But it is that understanding that is the issue. The Animagus form is a reflection of one's inner self, of each person's core self and beliefs. For example, James was rather prideful. justified, I will admit. He also had a presence, and a subconscious desire to be the centre of attention. But he also wanted to be the best at whatever he set his mind too, and while he had his pride, he was also very noble and protective. A mighty stag was a perfect reflection of his inner self then. A noble, alpha creature, leader of a herd, and its protector.

"Sirius Black's form was also a reflection of his core nature. Faithful and loyal even unto death, an aggressive protector and an 'us and them' attitude. But he was born and raised a Black, even if he rejected it, and that upbringing had an effect. Hence the Grim form."

McGonagall hesitated then, glancing towards Remus. The werewolf sighed in response. "Yes, a rat is very fitting for Peter. We only saw the good side of him having that form. Neither James nor Sirius could sneak about like Peter could. We didn't think about what it meant for who he was..."

McGonagall nodded before turning back to the enthralled teens. "To understand one's form, one has to understand oneself. And that, it has been found, is something that many people are unwilling to do. To accept all their traits, the good... and the bad. Some are even unnerved at even the idea that they could have such animalistic traits." Her eyes were on Hannah, who was looking nervous. Neville laid his hand over hers, calming the blonde with his touch.

"Can you choose your form?" Harry asked, trying to help Hannah get over her nerves with the topic.

"Only if you use what is known as the Ratenburg method. Instead of finding ones core self, that method imposes a form over the top. It involved forced transfiguration of a person's body, over and over again, into the desired form. Eventually, the person's body is so used to the change that they can consciously change at will. The process is painful, requires Transfiguration skills beyond NEWT level, and can take years, often at least two. And that is with working on it every single day."

Seeing the look on Harry's face, McGonagall smiled. "Fortunately for you, your ancestors had extensive contact with, and earned the trust of, the real masters of the Animagus Transformation... the native American Indians. Over the centuries they have refined and improved almost all aspects of the process. Using their methodology, almost anyone, even those commonly considered unable to achieve a form, can benefit."

At this Fleur raised a hand. "Ah, Profeszor, by what do you mean? It iz well known that Veela cannot..."

"That is true Miss Delacour. The same can be said for Werewolves and Metamorphs." Both Remus and Tonks, who'd been sat by the door listening in out of curiosity, now perked up. "From my understanding of the texts here in the Potter's library, the Indian's exercises and work allows such individuals more control over their... uh, alternate selves." McGonagall paused to look between Harry and Remus. "In fact, one of your ancestors theorised that this could allow a werewolf to gain control over their affliction. Far more so than Wolvesbane does today. However he died before he could investigate such an idea." As the werewolf sat back, clearly deep in thought, McGonagall turned back to the students.

"Now, we will be using the Indian method to help you both find your forms, and to help you achieve your forms, if you have one. Not only is it faster and more effective than the European methods, but there are two additional advantages. Firstly, conventional European theory is that a person may only have one form, and that no one can take a magical form. The Indians say, and proved, otherwise on both counts."

"That's how Sirius became a Grim then!" Daphne jumped in, eyes wide in excitement. "I was trying to understand how he could have achieved a major magical form, when everything and everyone says you can't even have a minor one."

McGonagall nodded. "Yes, I suspected that James shared the Indian method, it would explain not only Sirius, but also Petigrew. I'm afraid he never excelled as a wizard." There were several snorts at her assertion.

Harry's eyes were bright and eager now. "So... what do we do?"

"First off, you enter a dream-state, a trance if you like. Accounts of what happens during the dream-state vary, but in general, you will either observe your animal forms... or more rarely experience it through your forms eyes." McGonagall explained, moving towards a desk to one side. Knowing the look that was appearing on his face behind her, McGonagall continued. "There are two ways to achieve such a state. A slow way... and a fast way."

"We don't have time for the slow way." Harry stated with conviction.

Unseen by the students, McGonagall allowed a smirk to form on her face. "We figured you would say that. Remus?"

Remus suddenly pulled his wand. A ring of runes suddenly glowed, encompassing the students. A pair of small urns at either end started to smoke, the smoke swirling around them.

Hermione gasped. "A ritual? Wait, don't we..." She trailed off as she passed out, slumping down onto the table.

Harry looked sharply at Remus even as the others followed Hermione's example. The smoke was getting thicker, though his eyes gleamed through it. "Remus, you are soooo..." He trailed off as the smoked blocked him off, and a soft thump came from within.

From the side lines, Fleur was watching with her mouth hanging open, while beside her Tonks started to chuckle. "Oh Remus, you just had to prank them."

The werewolf only grinned.

* * *

'_uggh... I'm going to kick Moony's butt for that...' _Harry thought to himself. He paused in thought however when he felt... something. Air streaming over him, a sense of freedom and power. Of peace. Harry felt his nerves calming as he recognised the sensations. He was flying, his one true and total release.

Opening his eyes, he saw he was amongst the clouds. All around him were fluffy masses of cloud, not hemming him in but embracing him in a gently shifting landscape of greys. As all the tensions and pressures faded away Harry embraced the sensations, letting all his thoughts drift as he turned and banked round a towering column of grey cloud. The night sky overhead was filled with a multitude of glittering stars, brighter and clearer than Harry had ever seen. The moon was only a brilliant crescent in the sky, though its light was enough to bath the cloudy landscape in pale light.

A sense of joy welled up within him, and Harry felt no compulsion or desire to contain it. Without thought he twisted and dived, rolled and banked, dancing between the clouds, threading between streamers with a grace that he'd only approached while on his broom. He looped around and up into one bank of cloud, feeling the cool moisture on his face as he effortlessly sliced through it. Coming out he could almost feel the moons light playing across him as he reached the apex of his loop. Then he was diving down, back into the clouds, embraced by their softness.

Nothing could touch him here. All thoughts of Voldemort, his legacy, the war, everything faded away into the serenity of the clouds. The peace soaked into him, and he allowed his mind to drift with the sensations.

Acting on impulse, Harry started to twist, spinning his way through the clouds. Bursting out into an open patch he pulled up, soaring into the sky once more. Sliding between streamers of cloud, he settled down to cruise for a bit. As if reward for his restraint, the night sky began to glow with a rainbow of colours, forming loops and waves. The Aurora Borealis. Harry was lost in wonder at the display. He'd heard of the Northern Lights display, but never thought he'd ever get the chance to witness them. He watched in awe at the vivid display of blues and greens rippled above him, seemingly close enough to touch but always dancing away again.

So intent on the display above him, Harry didn't notice the expanse of cloud below breaking up. It was only as the lights faded away that he noticed the dark expanse far below the remaining threads of cloud. Curious, he angled downwards, passing through the thin wisps without even feeling them. As he got lower, he began to see that the darkness was not featureless as he had thought. There was a pattern, a rippling to a surface. Then he saw a distorted image of the moon and he realised it was the sea. Looking towards the horizon, Harry saw a definite difference between the sea and the sky. And silhouetted against that horizon was an island.

Harry banked gently around the island, marvelling at the way the waves crashed against the towering rock faces before sink down again, as if gathering strength to try again. He could see the churning of trapped water, the bubbling and frothing around the buttresses. Ahead an arc of rock soared through the air before joining another column that rose from the sea. With nay a thought Harry flew through the gap, seagulls crying above him as they took flight.

Banking past first one then another rock column, Harry's eyes alighted on a region ahead where a low mist was starting to form around a tight cluster of rock pillars. A headland must have been riddled with caves until the sea wore away too much rock, causing most of the upper surface to fall in. Feeling his pulse quicken, Harry narrowed his eyes before willing himself faster, plunging headfirst into the first gap. Almost immediately he had to jerk left to avoid the next rock, only for another wall to appear before him.

He began to grin as he flicked left and right, up and down, flashing through the gaps between the rocks. There was no pressure, no competition, no one else involved. Just him, his skill and ability the only measures between success and failure. He barrel-rolled through one stretch, before taking the low road under a fallen slab of rock before cutting up and sliding sideways through a narrow gap. The rock walls flashed past seemingly close enough to touch, yet he was so sure, so confident in himself, that it felt like miles.

One last gap, and suddenly the open sea was before him. Settling, he pulled back, trading speed for altitude. A gentle turn to the right had him headed for another headland, this one with a thick forest of pine trees atop it.

Passing over the treetops, Harry's eyes were snared by a flash of silver. Looking closer, he saw that it had been the moon reflecting off a small lake in an isolated glade within the forest. Feeling thirsty, he turned back and swooped down into the glade... which turned out to be a bit more than that. The ground appeared to have sunk down in one solid section, leaving the edges vertical all around. A few trees grew within the sinkhole, but mostly it was grass and the lake. Approaching the ground, he put his feet down even as he willed himself slower, before one foot touched the short, coarse grass. His remaining speed bled off in a short run, slowing to a walk at the water's edge. He began to lean forwards, intending to scoop up some water to drink... but froze at what he saw.

The sky had lightened to a dark blue, the stars still sparkling brightly. But what drew his stunned gaze was the dark shape that eclipsed a slice of stars. He could see no details – it was just a black shape – except for the two wide, emerald green cat-like eyes. Eyes that flicked about in time with his.

'_What is that thing? How did it sneak up on... Hang on. Where's my reflection?'_ It was only as he started to turn his head to look around that he realised the truth. The set of eyes shifted with his. _'That is me!'_

He no chance to see more, as darkness encompassed his vision...

* * *

Lily smiled as she watched the teens talking quietly, discussing their forms. Susan was quite pleased with her horse form, while Daphne was clearly pleased to be a black panther… her smile was bordering on being a smirk. Tracy, who'd not expected to get any result given how she wasn't as gifted as the others, had been shocked when she awoke. "That was one big lizard." She'd said reverently. Further questions and statement had allowed them to identify her form as that of the largest living reptiles on Earth, the Komodo Dragons of the Pacific islands. A powerful form, easily capable of taking down a man.

Sweet Luna was well pleased however. It was a remarkable and heart-warming change from how she'd arrived at the manor. The young woman had bloomed within their families embrace. A wave of melancholy passed over Lily for a moment, but she shrugged it off as Luna smiled once more, her eyes sparkling. Of them all so far, Luna had one of the most useful forms. In their world of Owl Post, one more barn owl flying around would not be noticed at all.

Neville however would draw eyes when he changed… shortly followed by screams as the people those eyes belonged too turned and ran. Meeting a great big Grizzly Bear face to face would do that to almost anyone. Hannah, who again had feared not finding a form, was overjoyed to have seen a German Shepard in her dream-vision.

A sigh escaped her lips as she looked to the still dreaming teens. If any of the young women gathered under their banner could have been her daughter, it would have been Hermione. Her drive, intellect and passion reminded Lily of herself, twenty years ago. And much like herself, Hermione was truly starting to bloom into a beautiful woman as she got older.

Lily's eyes dropped to her lap, where her son Harry's head rested as he continued to dream. Lovingly she stroked back some of his rebellious hair. After putting them all into the dream-state, McGonagall and Remus had levitated each of the teens to comfortable sofa's to sleep off the potion fumes. Lily knew, from experience, that they would not have been pleased had they been left slumped over the desks they had been sat at.

"How much longer?" Lily looked up to the slightly nervous expression on Emma Granger's face. Much like Harry's head rested in her lap, Hermione's lay on her mothers. While the class had been for the teens, most of the other residents of the Manor had been there to listen in... and to find out the results.

"Can't be much longer." Lily told her softly. "The length of time spent in the dream-state appears to correlate to the power of the witch or wizard, the power of the creature or creatures, and a least a half dozen other factors."

Emma sighed herself as she brushed a lock of hair from her daughters face. "I just... I feel sometimes that I'm losing my daughter to a world that I'll never understand..."

"If she were involved with any other family, or you did not love each other as much as you do, then yes you might of." Lily said gently. "But here, you'll always have a place. I'm a muggleborn like her. I know the issues. My own birth family was torn apart because of them. I won't let it happen to yours."

Emma smiled gratefully at the young-looking redhead, but before she could speak Hermione stirred. Blinking slowly the young woman slowly sat upright before drawing her knees to her chest. "Hermione? Sweetheart?" Her mum asked carefully.

"I'm okay mum… It's just…" Hermione trailed off for a moment. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I did fear that Miss Granger would have the most trouble accepting that she can have animalistic traits." McGonagall said softly to Lily before she stepped forwards. "But I would hazard a guess you were successful?" She asked the teen witch.

Hermione shivered slightly. "Oh yes, I succeeded all right." After a few moments she looked up to meet the expectant gazes. "I saw two separate forms."

Daphne gasped. "Two?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, two. Two very different forms… but I can't understand what they mean for me…"

"Perhaps if you told us what they were…" McGonagall said gently as she sat on Hermione's free side. "…We could help you understand."

Hermione was silent for a moment, before the reassuring touch of her mother's hand on her shoulder steadied her nerves. "The first… was a cat. But not a house cat. It looked more like a Puma or a Wildcat…"

"That does make sense." Susan commented. "If I had to guess beforehand what you'd be, it would have been a cat."

McGonagall was smiling tightly, her eyes dancing at the thought of teaching her favourite student the ins and outs of being a cat animagus. "And the other?"

Hermione sighed. "That's the one that's really bothering me. It was a fox."

"That's actually a good fit too." Daphne said, drawing several wide-eyed looks. "What? A fox is known for its cunning and cleverness. Slightly devious, a bit of a trickster… but it is also a canine, which brings in traits such as loyalty."

McGonagall nodded. "Very good points Miss Greengrass. And such a form has the advantage over a large cat in that you can move about without much notice." She nodded towards Harry. "Now if Mr Potter would kindly awaken…"

As if summoned by her words Harry began to shift about. Lily leaned over him, brushing back his hair as his eyes opened to meet her own.

"Welcome back honey." She smiled proudly at him. "What did you see?"

Harry looked back at her for a moment, before a slightly guilty look passed across his features. "Ah, well…"

"Harry…" Lily said nervously.

"…I didn't actually _see_ my form." He explained quickly.

"Then what did you see?" Remus asked.

Harry slowly sat up himself now, swinging his legs down as he did to sit beside his mother. After a moment he spoke.

"It was… weird. I was actually It. I started out flying… flying between the clouds. It was… wonderful. So peaceful and serene. I was just… able to let go and fly, you know? I saw… I saw the Northern Lights. They were so close, so vivid. After a while I went below the clouds to see an island in the ocean. It looked… like an island in the North. I uh…" Harry paused, deciding not to mention the flight through the rocky obstacle course. "…I flew about and above the island for a bit, before I saw a clearing with a small lake in it. Deciding to land for a drink, I leaned over the water… and saw…"

"Saw what?" Astoria asked excitedly from where she was sat with her older sister.

"Eyes. A pair of eyes." Harry said slowly, the image still crystal clear in his mind. "Two eyes the same as mine… but with cat-like pupils."

"Nothing else?" McGonagall was frowning now.

"No. There was a… shape… but it was black. Couldn't really make it out against the dark sky…" Harry shrugged.

McGonagall sighed herself. "Only you, mister Potter, could have an animagus dream-vision and not only achieve a true connection, but not actually know _what _you are."

A round of laughter followed her droll statement.

* * *

Major Greengrass scowled as he paced back and forth. _'They're late.'_ Was all that was running through his mind at that moment. The last of his men were supposed to arrive that night, having procured some additional numbers from other splinter remnants of Grindelwald's followers. Most, he was given to understand, consisted of men recruited since their masters defeat, with only a fraction of the training and equipment. Still, that made them a cut above the average wizard. Against the fools in this weak, pathetic countries Auror force, they would be more than enough.

They were also acting as transport for a number of wizards that Voldemort's own men had recruited from the continent. Thugs and barbarians. Weak willed men easily seduced by promises of power and plunder. Greengrass already could tell that Voldemort had no intention of ever honouring his promises… even to himself. No, when the self-styled 'Dark Lord' turned on him, Greengrass would have to take what his due. But he would have to be careful. Greengrass knew that at that moment, he was no match for Voldemort. So far the Dark Lord had shown himself to be rather crude and blunt, without any elegance or style. But he made up with sheer power and brute force…

"Your men are late, major. Perhaps they are not as vaulted as you would have us believe?" Greengrass paused in his stride to glare at his companion, Lucius Malfoy. The blond haired senior Death Eater sneered back, his face twisted by the deep scar that slashed across his cheek. The contempt he felt was clear.

"My men will arrive, Malfoy. Unlike yours, they are reliable." Lucius's scowl deepened.

"If that's the case… where are they?" He waved a hand around the empty dock they were stood in. Some containers were stacked to one side, and a cargo crane arched overhead, but at this time of the night the docks at Great Yarmouth were all but shut down, awaiting the dawn to start again. The dock area they were stood in was only gloomily lit by a few lights, creating long shadows that hid his men as they stood watch. Not that they expected any intrusion, but one could never be too sure. The sole muggle guard at the gate was sleeping, and would not wake for anything for hours yet. Greengrass knew that had Malfoy been in command he would have killed the overweight muggle without a thought: his disgust when they walked by the guard hut made that clear. Greengrass had been forced to explain to him, as one would to a child, that killing the guard would alert the muggle authorities that someone had wanted or done something at the docks during the night, drawing attention to them. This they did not want. However, a guard falling asleep on duty… who would take notice of that?

"They must have a good reason…" Greengrass returned his thoughts to Malfoy's words, his teeth grinding.

Malfoy snorted. "Such slackness will not be tolerated by the Dark…"

"Major! Ship approaching!" One of Greengrass's men called out, cutting the aristocrat off.

Hissing at his words, Greengrass spun. "Take cover fool! We don't know who it is!"

From the base of the crane he watched as a dark shape approached the dock from the ocean. The modest sized ship – he could not make out much detail in the dark – approached without lights on or anything. Faintly he heard the props thrash the water before a shudder ran through the ground as the ships bows brushed against the dockside. Metal squealed as the ship scrapped along the concrete for a few seconds, prompting a wince from Greengrass. _'That was sloppy…'_

At last the ship was still, and Greengrass looked it over. It was a smallish ferry, one that placed more importance on carrying passengers than vehicles. The bows had stopped just clear of the end of the dock, while only a few faint lights came from within. After a moment a gangway was pushed out from the deck to the dock, and a figure walked quickly down. "Herr Major?" the man called out.

Greengrass relaxed. It was his sergeant, the man he'd left behind to coordinate the gathering of the men. Stepping out of the shadows, he stalked towards him. "Sergeant Valmerov."

The Sergeant snapped to attention. "Heil Grindelwald!"

"Would you mind explaining the delay sergeant? Or why you chose to use this…" Greengrass waved his hand towards the ferry. "… this ship?"

"Sir, it took more time to load one factions equipment than we anticipated. This ship was the only one that could carry the equipment in question."

Greengrass's eyebrow rose. "Curious. Well then, have the men unload, if you please."

"_Jawohl_, Herr Major!" The Sergeant spun on his heel before almost running back up the gangway. Within a minute figures began to stagger down the gangway, clearly feeling the effects of a rough crossing. Greengrass watched carefully as each man stepped off. It was easy to tell the mercenaries and other barbarians from those that were part of the Factions. The later were staggering worse and clung together in groups, all dressed in rough wizards robes. The Grindelwald faction members at least were better able to conceal their own nausea, and were more uniform in dress, mostly crude facsimiles of the infamous combat tunics. Only a few had the proper weapons, but he noticed several had the Russian made AK-47 as part of their gear. He shivered before forcing his ire down. They would do… for now.

Of course, his own men stood out like sore thumbs. Dressed impeccably in their slate grey uniforms with their weapons ready for inspection, they lined up neatly awaiting his orders. He noted with a touch of pride that not one was wavering where he stood.

"The crew of the ship?" He asked the sergeant.

"Their remains are on board Major. Some of the others decided to pass the time with them."

Greengrass scowled in annoyance. That was not going to help them. "Be sure to scuttle the ship then. Somewhere and somehow the muggles can't recover the remains… or learn of her last cargo."

"Sir, a volunteer crew is ready to ensure a collision with another ship or platform. Charges have already been laid to ensure she sinks."

"Very good." Looking along the lines, the Major frowned as he saw that the bow loading ramp was down. "Why is the ramp down?"

The Sergeant actually grinned. "Major… the equipment I mentioned requires the ramp lowered."

"What could possibly require…" Malfoy begun, but the sound of diesel engines starting cut him off.

Greengrass stepped towards the bows slowly, eyes narrowed in thought, as the nose of a truck eased down the ramp. It swung around, drawing a trailer behind it out onto the dock and into the light. Greengrass's eyes widened when he realised what was revealed.

It was only weak light, but there was no mistaking the form that rested on the trailer. Nor on the second that followed the first truck down.

Reverently he walked forwards, eyes filled with the squat, intimidating forms that seemed to brood on the trailers. Malfoy followed, his brow creased in confusion and disgust. "What are you so enthralled by now?"

Greengrass didn't turn to look at him, just raised his hand to run it across a wheel of the beast before him. "Have you not heard of Tiger Tanks Malfoy?" He asked quietly, his voice filled with awe.

Many miles away, a British intelligence officer stared with alarm at the live video feed from a surveillance camera that overlooked the docks. Greengrass and his men may have technology literate up to the nineteen-fifties, but they had completely disregarded the slim, narrow boxes that rode atop tall poles around the docks. The intelligence officer had caught the first incursion, when one of the Magi-SS had suddenly appeared in behind the guard shack. Now he picked up a phone to call in the serious escalation of the threat that he'd been briefed to look out for, making sure the record function was running. As the other end of the line picked up he watched as with a shimmer the two deadly tanks were overlaid with the image of wide bodied cranes…

* * *

**DR: **There's something to chew on. In regard to Harry's form... all will be revealed... when the time is right. I'm sure that most of you can guess what it is though... Use PM's if you want confirmation. Let's not spoil the surprise for others... D


	40. Setting the Stage

**A/N:** All I can say people is 'Sorry' regarding the delay with this chapter. The will was there, as was the muse (to a degree... it's having more fun playing with scenes planned for much later in the year) but the mood wasn't. I just... wasn't in the right frame of mind to write. You have no idea how frustrating that is...

Nevertheless, here's the next chapter. Hopefully the next won't take as long, as I have a pretty clear idea as to what happens. I'm not making any promises though.

* * *

Voldemort strode slowly through the halls of Malfoy manor, his thoughts inwards. So inwardly focused were his thoughts, he didn't notice his Death Eaters almost jumping aside to clear his path. None of them wanted to anger him by getting his way… not after he'd tortured and killed the last one who'd caused him to nearly stumble. The Romanian wizard had come around the corner and ploughed into the Dark Lord. He started to rudely berate him… before he realised just _who_ he was talking to. By then, his fate was sealed. The Crucitus had brought the arrogant fool low, before a string of high-powered cutting spells had lashed down at him, too fast for the eye to follow. By the time Voldemort had stopped casting, the man's body and face was slashed apart and his limbs were scattered across the floor in several pieces… each. Somehow the mutilated torso and head still clung to life… before a flash of green filled the pain filled eyes. Voldemort had walked away, leaving the cooling corpse as a warning to the others.

Now, none of the foreigners dared tempt his ire. Even the Magi-SS men and their auxiliaries knew to step aside.

Turning onto another corridor, Voldemort thought, planed and re-planed, considered and remunerated. Nothing had gone right this summer. The loss to Potter of his godfather had been the only bright spot of that night at the start of June. Everything else had failed. Then, while he recovered after the fierce battle with Dumbledore and the aftermath of possessing Potter, the sudden, inexplicable pain that had seemed to have poured into his soul had been all the more terrible. The effects of that continued to hound him, as he'd lost a minor power tap that he'd not noticed till it was gone. He knew that somehow it was related to Potter, but for the life of him he could not figure it out.

Then there had been the attack on the Bones. Even that had failed, as Amelia Bones was still alive, and from all accounts now living under the protection of the Potters. Oh yes, he'd been informed of Lily Potter's return from the dead by his agents within the Wizengamont. Not that they had provided any new information: her sudden return was imprinted across the front page of the _Prophet_. What was more disturbing was the multi-house Alliance between the Potters, the Bones, The Blacks, the Longbottoms and the Greengrasses. That had the potential to really make things difficult for his political agents, as those five families had extensive power in the Wizengamont. Many whole follow their lead, just on principle. The defection of the Black Family block hurt the worst though, as it had been a staunch supporter of his agendas in the past. Malfoy was working his silvered tongue furiously, but so far he had little to show for it except that the former Head Auror Scrimgour was made Minister. So far he'd been exactly what Voldemort had wanted: a man more focused on his own image than actually doing anything.

The Greengrass issue really gave him a headache. Major Greengrass… was a problem. Sure, his men were excellent at their craft, and were objects of dread for the whole world. But… they were loyal to the Major, not to his cause. And the Major himself was displaying an annoying tendency to question every decision that Voldemort made. Was it really that hard to understand? He, Voldemort, was the Dark Lord. He was in charge! No one questioned him!

Taking a deep breath he reigned back his sanity. Voldemort knew he had to deal with the Major soon, but he needed him too much right now to deal with him in the preferred way. The men he commanded gave them the numbers needed to start more attacks. Plus he had never been confrontational about his questions. No, he had to have a valid reason to punish the upstart before he could inflict his… displeasure, on him.

Sadly, Greengrasses men were the only effective force he had right now. His own Death Eaters were seriously out of shape, and the foreign recruits were scum, truly the sweepings of the continent. The attacks on Potters friends had shown the failings all too clearly.

Even the Giant band that had agreed to fight for him were delayed, having stowed away on the wrong boat. Now, instead of landing on the welsh coast sometime early June, they were landing in Kent, just a few miles from Dover, now in July. He had to plan a whole new attack for them, as they'd never get to the original target without being seen.

Looking up, he realised he had arrived outside Snapes potions lab. Voldemort had no illusions about the man: he was a greasy, vindictive bastard who'd sell out anyone, even family, if it would be to his advantage. Looking in, he noted the shimmering potions that Snape was brewing. He knew that at that moment the Potions Master was dealing with some of his Hogwarts duties. It really was fortuitous having an inside man within Hogwarts, doubly so one who was Head of House. Hearing movement within however piqued his interest, and he confidently stepped in.

Almost right away the source of the sounds was clear. Draco was sat on the camp bed he'd been recovering on, breathing deeply. He'd not been seen since he'd been shot.

"Ah, I see you are recovered young dragon." Voldemort said quietly, his tone neutral.

Draco's head snapped up, revealing that his brow was beaded with sweet. Looking closer, Voldemort could see the strain the young Malfoy was putting into his arms to hold himself. "My Lord." Draco replied, his voice shaky.

A hairless eyebrow rose. "You fear me Young Malfoy?"

Draco gulped audibly. "I only fear failing you master."

"As you should." Voldemort looked down at the youth, contemplating him silently for several long moments. "What is it you want Draco?" He asked softly, suddenly. Draco's head jerked up in surprise.

"My Lord?"

"It is a simple question. What do you want?"

Draco was silent for a moment. "I want to serve you Master. I want to be your right hand, striking down those blood traitors who defy you! Who deny your right to rule! I want to cleanse our world of all the muggle filth that has polluted it, and restore it to what it was!"

"Excellent, my young dragon." Voldemort smirked, pleased at the response he'd drawn from the young fool. Nodding slowly as his adjusted plans settled, he drew his wand. "Your arm, Draco Malfoy."

Lifting his head Draco looked at the Dark Lord, then to the wand in his hand. After a moment realisation swept across his face, along with growing pride and vindication. Stiffly he moved off the bed and knelt before Voldemort, drawing up his left sleeve as he did. Raising his arm, he bowed his head.

With practiced movements Voldemort traced the outline of the Dark Mark over Draco's pale skin, focusing his magic as he did. Thin streams of smoke rose from where the glowing wand tip passed, the skin a dark, angry red. He could sense that Draco was struggling not to cry out in pain, but so far he'd held his reaction to the Marking in… which actually impressed Voldemort, a little. Once the outline was done he raised his wand up before finally incanting.

"_Morsmorde._"

The spell bolt shot into Draco's arm inside the outline marked, and the skin within seemed to boil and writhe as it darkened. A small gasp escaped Draco's clenched teeth as the magic of the Dark Mark bound itself to his own, tying his life to it. He could almost feel the tendrils of the spell crawling up his arm, reaching deep within him and forever binding him to his Lord and Master.

Then the senses faded, leaving just an ache from the new mark that now stood proudly against his alabaster skin. "Thank you, master." He said shakily.

"You survived when most would not." Voldemort said as he sheathed his wand. "Now, you are to recover your strength. For your task come the start of term."

Draco nodded. "Yes. Kill Dumbledore."

"Excellent, you hadn't forgotten. Yes, kill him, and soon. But… I don't what it to be quick. Make him suffer. Draw out his pain and despair. And I want it public. If you can manage to do it before the whole school… even better. Do not worry about an repercussions. When the old fool is gone, the world will be mine for the taking… and you will be rewarded."

Draco couldn't fight the smirk that formed on his face. He would succeed!

Voldemort nodded to himself satisfied. Now, he knew what to do. Returning to his throne, he summoned both Macnair and Greengrass to him.

"You summoned me My Lord?" Macnair said as he knelt before Voldemort. Bearson Greengrass didn't say anything, just looked at him imperiously.

"Yes, I did. Macnair, the Giants had finally made landfall." He noticed the half-hidden shudder of disgust that rippled over the executioner, but decided not to call him on it. "As you are most familiar with such creatures, you will take of team of your choice and met up with the band in Kent. This…" He held out a photograph torn from a muggle tour packet. "… is your target."

Macnair looked at the picture for a moment before nodding. "When should we attack?"

"As soon as you are able, at dusk. The bridge will be filled with Muggles, ripe for the slaughter. Those that don't drown you may… deal with. Do try to bring back some pretty females though. We need some fresh blood for the chambers."

"Understood My Lord." Macnair rose and strode out of the chamber, leaving the Major and the Dark Lord alone.

"And what, pray tell, do you ask of me?" Bearson asked softly.

Voldemort gritted his teeth for a moment before relaxing. "It's time to strike at Potter himself. Thus, you will make your attempt to get him. I want him brought before me, alive. The muggles he lives with… kill them."

"Understood."

* * *

The doors to the Wizengamont chambers slammed open, drawing looks of astonishment. Those quickly turned to ones of alarm as Lily Potter stormed through, robes billowing behind her as her heels slammed down onto the marble floor. With her red hair crackling around her clearly furious expression, it was no surprise that the Ministry Workers jumped aside to clear her a path. None of them, despite her status, wanted to provide a target for her to let off some of the anger she was clearly feeling.

Lily however didn't notice as she continued to seethe after the latest Wizengamont meeting. _'Honestly! What a collection of feeble old men! They haven't got a single gram of sense!'_

The problem was that nearly all the members were older 'pureblood'ed men, who while they may not outright support the Dark Lord, certainly had sympathy for his stated cause of ensuring the Purebloods were supreme. They glossed over the fact that his real goal was to rule the world, where one knelt and served him or died. As such, they were reluctant to do anything that would really hinder Voldemort's actions. No increase in the auror budget, no special effort against the Death Eaters, not even an investigation into known members. They were all so afraid of their own finances and homes being probed and searched. And of course, there was the always present, but never aired, threat of retaliation.

Instead, they talked and bantered back and forth as the Death Eaters engaged in their 'game' of Muggle baiting. While it hadn't made the mainline news yet, the number of muggings, rapes and assaults in the cities had risen dramatically in the last two weeks, and was still increasing. Burglaries were also up, the most affected the rich and wealthy, those normally all but immune to such theft. But when one can magically bypass burglar alarms… There had even been a bank vault stripped bare, without the guards and cameras seeing a thing. They'd closed the vault for the last time one evening, with an actual guard stationed outside the door. When they opened the next morning however… everything was gone.

It was not until she reached the Atrium that Lily was able to, at last, get a grip on her temper. She'd always had anger management issues, even from a young age. Though it tended to blow out quickly, she'd always had a short fuse. In her early years she'd used various breathing exercises to try and help her control her temper. Remus had been a big help during her fifth and sixth years at Hogwarts, as his naturally calm demeanour and manner had acted as a foil for her, and he'd helped her develop the exercises more. But… she'd not kept up with them. Not since she'd started dating James. James had discovered a far more effective means to calm her down: He'd kiss her so passionately that her anger would be turned into lust. Once bathed in the afterglow, she'd been able to rationally consider what had trigger her anger.

But now there was no one who could help her that way anymore. Oh she'd already had many men try to approach her, some already married! But even if she didn't consider any liaison a betrayal of James, the light of greed in their eyes would have put her off anyway. Those few at the beginning who'd pushed had soon learned the hard way that do so was a 'Bad Idea'.

Calming, she looked up from her shoes… and instantly scowled again. Before her were the remains of the Fountain of Magical Brethren.

Ever since she'd first seen it, back before Harry was born, Lily had had issues with the Fountain. It had been billed as showing how the magical world was in harmony. But to her, it typified the attitude of the old Pureblood bigots. The Goblin, House-Elf and Centaur were all on lower levels than the witch and wizard, looking up at them as if they were deities. Something she knew both the Goblins and Centaurs would have had issues with. And the witch was lower than the wizard, looking up at him with such a sappy look of devotion on her golden face… it had riled Lily deeply.

Now, no one was willing to have it fixed. It seemed indicative of the current magical government; if it wasn't in anyone's own interest, no one bothered.

Feeling a familiar urge to 'do something' Lily drew her wand in a fluid movement. Jabbing it towards the pile of rubble and cheap gold, she started to chant in Latin, her wand darting back and forth. While she'd been a Charms and Potions prodigy, James had, during their Seventh year and after, given her extra tuition in Transfiguration way beyond NEWT level, the area of magic that he had excelled at. She'd reciprocated with Charms.

Now she put that extra training to use, as the broken stone and twisted metal flowed and changed, the forms bending as if natural. Around her ministry workers slowed to a halt, watching her as she rebuilt the Fountain… single-handed.

Finally the changes slowed, then ceased. After a moment her wand went through the same motions six times, and once more water began to be emitted from each statue. Stepping back, Lily looked over her handiwork.

The wizard once more stood tall and proud, only this time his pose was a little more lively, not as static as before. The witch however was no longer looking at him in adoration, but standing next to him, wand and gaze levelled out towards the world. The other three also had moved, not only to the same level as the humans, but also the same base, so the five were clustered on one side of the pool. The goblin stood to the wizards free side, axe in hand and raised in a ready stance. The meaning was clear: he was an equal, trusted to stand with the humans. The centaur had moved to be mostly on the witches free side, arrow levelled at a distant target. The House-Elf stood before the couple, arms spread in a ready stance, the expression on his face clear that any threat to them would have to go through him first.

"Well done Madam Potter, well done indeed." Turning her head, Lily regarded Albus Dumbledore sternly as he approached, his gaze on the new Fountain. "This would certain earn an 'Outstanding Plus' on any NEWT test my dear."

"It was not my intention to impress, Dumbledore."

The older man nodded his head slowly. "No, it never is. But it is what you have achieved." Only then was Lily made aware of the gathered onlookers. She looked about sharply, and the lower level workers moved along hurriedly.

Sighing, Lily turned back to the Headmaster. "What do you want Dumbledore? My son is expecting me home."

"Ah Lily, your devotion to Harry is commendable." Albus sighed deeply. "I wish you both understood why I did what I did…"

"It would help if you explained your actions simply." She snapped.

"True, perhaps. Nevertheless, we have to move forwards together to counter Voldemort, and save our world from destruction."

"Aren't those goals one and the same?" She asked bluntly.

"To some, yes. But the truth is a much more complex and terrible thing." Another sigh escaped his lips. "Madam Potter… Lily… I know I cannot redeem myself in your eyes. And my time is so limited now…" She watched as he tossed a galleon into the restored pool… then gasped softly as the state of his right hand registered.

"What happened to your hand Dumbledore?" She asked with real concern.

Dumbledore smiled sadly as he looked at his blackened and withered right hand. "I, alas, underestimated Voldemort's cruelty. I retrieved one of his… 'treasures' over the weekend. Sadly, it was cursed far more than I expected, and as it was an object that I have long searched for… I'm afraid a life-long obsession over-rode my own common sense." His thumb jerkily tapped a ring that adored his finger. A ring of heavy gold with a black stone set in the centre, on which Lily could make out some fine lines scored. A thick crack ran through the ring itself.

"It's destroyed?"

"Oh yes, once I broke the ring it died. But a curse was still active on it." He sighed once more as he slid his hand back into a pocket. "But here and now is not the time to discuss such matters. Instead… I wish to ask of you something." He finally turned to regard Lily. In that moment she was struck at just how _old_ he looked, how he seemed to have aged years in only a few days. "When Harry and his friends return to Hogwarts… what will you do?"

Lily frowned lightly in thought. "I'm… not sure really. There's only so much I can do here…"

A small smile flickered across Dumbledore's visage. "I expected as much. I understand you wish to remain close to Harry…"

"You can bet your bony ass on that!" A chuckle was her only reply.

"Minerva has notified me of the requirement of a set of married quarters for Harry and his… entourage. I assume you will take up the option to stay in those same quarters?"

"It is my right as his mother." Lily's eyes narrowed. "Get to the point."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "My apologies. At my age, one tends to ramble… but I digress. I find myself once more searching for a new Professor."

Lily smirked. "The DADA 'Curse' huh?"

"No actually. I have already filled that place." At her look, he pushed on. "No, instead I find my Muggle Studies Professor has decided to retire suddenly. He mentioned something about visiting America for a few years…"

"What's the bet that he had a visit from a Death Eater or two?"

"None. I can tell."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "I bet you could."

"I did not read his mind, if that's what you're implying." Dumbledore said sternly. Lily shrugged off his tone, unaffected by it.

"So, you need to fill his post."

"Yes. Sadly, it is last minute, and I fear I will get only a few applicants. And of those, I expect them to be even less qualified to teach the course that the previous professor was."

"Hermione has made mention that the course is nearly two hundred years out of date."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I was afraid of that. But I am also afraid that the recent generations of wizards are 'losing touch' with the muggle world, and are underestimating them."

"If they did, it would be their last mistake."

"I know. I had intended at some point to make the course compulsory, but it would need to be kept up to date with the muggle world. And the only way to do that is for the Professor to be fully in touch with the Muggle world."

Lily waited for a moment, then recognised the look in his eye. "Wait… you want _me_ to teach the course?"

"You are well versed with the muggle world. And you would be in the castle anyway…"

"Now hold on a minute…"

"That last was not my many reason for offering you the role Lily. I apologise for the implication. But I am serious about the offer. My time is nearly up. I fear I will not live to see the end of the school year." Lily gasped at this revelation. "As such, I wish to do what I can, in what little time I have left, to repair the damage I have, inadvertently, caused, and to ensure our world survives. As a professor, you will become more well known to the student population. They will respect and follow you, just like they follow Harry. And we must make the new generation aware that treating the muggles as inferior is wrong. The Statute of Secrecy was put in place to save ourselves, not the muggles."

Lily looked at Dumbledore for a long moment. "Can I think about for a day or two?"

"Of course. But please, no longer than that. If I am to get a replacement professor in before term starts, I have to advertise soon. If I have not heard from you by the weekend, then I shall assume you have no interest in the position. Good day Lily."

Lily nodded as the aging man turned and walked away. It was several minutes before she too started towards the floos, her thoughts once again inwards.

* * *

The mood was much lighter at Potter Manor as Daphne lead Harry out into the summit garden of House Greengrasses new home. The two had been on a tour of the newly refurbished 'mini-manor' starting from the open plan entryway and intimate study before moving up into the light and airy living spaces above. The same elegant touch that he'd noted in the Greengrasses old home were here too, slightly lost at some points with the far more open and expansive spaces, but still having a powerful effect. The elder Greengrasses had clearly drawn heavily on their family roots and had played to the vertical arrangement of the building. Pine and teak panelling lined the walls and floors, with the main other colour being a deep, rich green. Large windows and skylights allowed a lot of natural light to fill the rooms, even the deeper recesses that were dug into the hill side.

They had come across the twins laughing and playing happily on the second floor. The pair of them had almost mobbed Harry, climbing all over him as they thanked him again and again. Harry had found that he'd not minded their attentions at all, and he'd willingly been dragged to see their new bedroom. It was twice the size of their old room, giving them much more space to themselves. He'd blushed when he saw the half-size poster of himself on the rear of the door, but had understood Daphne's whispered words.

"You're more than just a brother-in-law to them Harry. Now your both a big brother and a hero in one."

The middle floor had a set of guest rooms… or future family rooms, Daphne had teased Harry lightly, prompting a blush from him. Though he got back at her when he asked if she intended to fill all the rooms herself. Once again Harry had marvelled at how lucky he was to have gained the favours of so many beautiful women, as Daphne's flushed cheeks had complimented her long blond hair and elegant frame contained within an airy summer dress.

On the floor above they had encountered Lord Henerick and Lady Eleanor Greengrass sitting together in the expansive living space. Both had risen to greet their lord, welcoming him to their new home. Harry had tried to brush off the formality, but neither of the older Greengrasses were deterred, and continued to pay him the respect they knew he deserved. Daphne watched from the side-lines as Harry – slowly – settled into the role that he would one day have to fill. Lord Greengrass promised to go over with him the intricate details of what a Lord of an Ancient and Noble House actually meant. Harry eagerly accepted the offer, though suggested they wait until the whole Voldemort issue was dealt with. Henerick had smiled, and proclaimed that already he was showing the signs of a great leader; knowing when to defer, and what to focus on.

Seeing that Harry was rapidly becoming tongue-tied, Daphne had gently pulled him away, leading up to the final level, the one that was on the same level as the embankment that the manor was built into. This last floor had been turned into a place of more active relaxation, with a small spa and sauna fitted. A large area was roofed in glass as well, adjoining the sauna and steam room. The interior of the greenhouse was humid, with several tropical plants that thrived in such a climate. Much of the floor was of teak, with breaks for hot tubs and bathing pools.

In contrast, the garden outside was almost cold, certainly cooler than the grounds elsewhere in the Manor. Daphne giggled lightly at the confused look on Harry's face.

"What's the matter Harry? Too cold for you?"

Harry turned to look at her, smirking. "Not really, just surprised. Besides…" He snaked an arm around her slim waist. "…I've got you here to help me stay warm."

Sighing happily, Daphne allowed him to draw her into a hug. "It'd be more me needing you to warm me Harry."

Harry nodded slowly, recognising the truth of her words. Daphne was dressed in a thin, sleeveless summer dress that clung to her frame. In the direct sunlight it had turned translucent, highlighting both its thinness and her figure. A curvy figure that was now pressed up against his own body… Once more he was amazed at his fortune. Life had certainly turned around for him.

Looking around, Harry took note of the foliage. Up here the plants were themed once more, this time to a colder climate such as Sweden. The trees were nearly all thick conifers, and the ground was mostly bare earth. "So how'd you get the chill?" He asked softly, enjoying the contact.

Daphne grinned at him. "The same way your ancestor did the lake, only backwards."

"Ah." Harry nodded in understanding. "So this is what you needed my permission for then…" As the land was effectively Potter Land, to raise any kind of ward on it needed the approval of the Head of the Potter Family. Daphne had asked him quietly the other day, though had managed to do so without revealing exactly what she intended. Harry had granted her, and the other families, free reign to place wards about their homes, as long as any ward would not compromise the security of the Manor grounds itself.

Drawing back from him, Daphne pulled on one hand. "Come on. I want to show you something in particular." As she lead him through the foliage a hint of nervousness emerged in her tone. "I designed this feature myself."

"Really?" Harry asked, glancing back as the manor's top floor, which from this angle appeared more like a Scandinavian house than anything else, disappeared into the evergreen cloak. Looking forward once more, he managed to repress a small shiver as the air temperature dropped a little more… but then why was the ground feeling hot?

Turning a corner, they emerged into a small grove. Ringed by thick conifers, the rock edged pool was completely hidden away from all but directly above. Steam rose in wispy curls from the slightly cloudy water which bubbled gently in a few spots.

"Nice… what is it?" Harry asked, feeling like a fool having to ask.

Daphne smiled once more. "Our own natural hot spring. The water's refreshed constantly, with plenty of natural salts and the like."

Harry squatted down to dip a finger into the water, snapping it back on contact with the surface. "Whoa. That is hot! You could boil in this!"

Musical laughter resounded from behind him. "No you won't silly! A proper hot spring is good for you, and with this one we don't have to worry about the water changing temperature on us. Here… I'll show you."

Harry turned only to get Daphne's dress land on his face. Clawing it away, he watched spellbound as she stepped over to a lower section of rocks stark naked. Harry's jaw dropped a little as she slowly stepped into the pool, emitting a pleasurable sounding sigh as the cloudy water lapped up her pale thighs. Leaning forwards she slowly swarm across the pool, her body half obscured. Reaching the far side, Daphne dunked her head under the surface for a second before turning to face him, a warm and sultry smile on her face. "Why don't you join me Harry?" She asked, allowing herself to rise up in the water enough that the top surfaces of her breasts rose up above the surface.

Harry had to take a moment to focus his mind. "But… I don't have any swimwear here."

"Neither did I. Didn't stop me now, did it?" She lifted a hand out of the water to crook a finger at him. "I'm waiting Harry…"

Shrugging to himself, Harry quickly disrobed, laying his clothes over a convenient rail that rose up to one side. As he moved to join her tentatively, Daphne allowed her eyes to roam over his body, marvelling once more at the complete turnaround of her own thoughts since the end of term. Back then, close encounters with boys was to be avoided at all costs. Far too many were concerned only with getting into a girls panties, and the examples in Slytherin House… well, she imagined the sight of a naked Goyle or Crabbe would be enough to have any girl switch to being a lesbian in seconds.

Harry however… he was both wiry and built. There was almost no waste or excess fat on his lean body. In fact he could probably do with a little more feeding, but this toned, sleek form was certainly worthy of being classified as eye candy by the young witch.

Harry gasped as he stepped onto the bottom of the pool. "Ouch! That's really hot!"

"You get used to it." Daphne smiled as she started to swim back across towards him. Reaching him she looped her arms around his neck, bringing both their heads to the same level so she could kiss him. She felt his own arms go around her body as they both opened their mouths slightly, allowing him to taste the slightly tang to her lips before meeting her tongue with his. The world around them faded away as they clung to each other, eyes closed in bliss. A sense of peace and belonging stole over her, and Daphne sighed as they parted their lips for a moment. "I love you Harry…" She whispered softly.

For a moment Harry was frozen. While the affection and desire between each one of them was there and known, the actual words had not been spoken between them that much. Only Hermione had really come out and said it aloud. As his mind pondered this, he realised that his feelings for the witch in his arms were almost the same as they were for the witch that had stood beside him for the past five years. It would never be totally the same, but it was damned near close enough. "I love you too Daphne…" He whispered in reply, allowing his lips to graze her earlobe as he did.

Daphne shivered in a combination of passion and desire at his words, her own emotions spiking. She'd been slightly afraid from the start that Harry would never truly love her like he did Hermione, not that she'd expected anything else. Neither she or Susan had the history that he had with the brunette witch, it was only natural that she'd be first in his heart. For Harry to verbally tell her that he loved her though… Daphne had learned enough to read Harry now, and he was not lying. He did love her, just like he did Hermione.

Gasping, she used the leverage of her arms to propel herself up his body, bringing her legs forward to wrap around his waist. "Take me Harry, here and now!"

* * *

Remus nearly stumbled as he stepped out the front door of Potter Manor late that evening. It was only Tonks gripping his upper arm – and the heavy oak door beside her – that kept him standing. "Easy wolfie. I'm the clumsy one, remember?"

"Ha ha." Remus shot tiredly before groaning. "Merlin, I ache almost as bad after the full moon."

Tonks exhaled loudly as she leaned against the door. "I hear you. Those Army guys are something else."

Remus just nodded in reply. As part of the Army force's training, both himself and Tonks had been drafted in to 'assist', often as the magical assailants the soldiers had to defeat. The two of them, along with Bellatrix, threw every trick and tactic they knew at the soldiers; it was only the spell choices that marked the difference. At first their abilities had given them a decided edge against the soldiers, but more and more they were more often than not caught out and pelted with the foam pellets that the training weapons used. Or they were forced to defend themselves against a physical attack. Remus, with his werewolf enhanced strength was still superior to all but the pair of Royal Marines in the force, but both Bellatrix and Tonks had to fight dirty to even stand a chance to escape such grapples. The soldiers had quickly picked up on that witches and wizards were not fans of 'dirty physical combat'… and were in fact downright lazy. Tonks, as an Auror, was fitter and more active than most, but still she found herself over matched by these hardened men.

As such, each evening after a day of training the army force, the three of them staggered back to Potter Manor, covered in bruises and aching all over.

"You know Remus…" Tonks said softly as they moved away from the main Manor down the gravel drive. "…I almost feel sorry for those Death Eater bastards that have to face our guys."

Remus nodded slowly. "I wonder if they would even have a chance against Voldemort…"

Tonks considered the matter carefully. "If they can surprise him, maybe. But he's just so powerful that I would not bank on it. And you know how good he is. As good as those guys are, I doubt they could evade all the AK's he'd throw around, not to mention all the other exotic spells he clearly knows."

It was true. Voldemort was not feared just for his power alone, though that was pretty high as it was. No, it was his presence, his skill in battle that really terrified others. His almost lackadaisical casting of the Killing Curse, a spell notorious for both its high power use and mental requirement. Remus had been terrified just to watch Harry's memories of the duel between Voldemort and Dumbledore in the Ministry. How Harry kept going after having witnessed that first-hand… to say nothing of being determined to actually step up to that level…

"Just what is that guy's deal though…" Tonks words cut into his thought process.

"Huh? Whose?"

Tonks waved an arm tiredly. "That loner guy. I've rarely seen him in these exercises. He's like a ghost. I'd swear he can disillusion himself if I didn't know he was a muggle. And doesn't he ever smile?"

"Ah. Him." Remus said softly, instantly knowing just who she was referring to. The man himself was soft spoken, almost silent. But he moved with a lethal grace that made the Wolf within Remus cower. "I wouldn't try anything Tonks. Not knowing just what he is."

"Hmm, wolfie? Care to explain that?"

Remus smiled tightly. "Sports & Social."

Puzzlement was clear on her face. "What is that supposed to mean? We're getting whipped by a… a… a reunion event organiser?"

Barking with laughter, Remus was unable to answer for a few moments, very happy that the man in question _wasn't_ with them at that point. Though he reckoned he might have seen the funny side to her comment himself. "No Tonks. It's how his unit is referred to. They don't hang signs saying 'I am a member of the top one per cent of the British Armed Forces' around their necks." At Tonks' still befuddled expression, Remus leaned close to whisper in her ear. "S A S."

Her eyes snapped wide at that. "OHHHH!" Then a blush crept over her cheeks as her hair turned red. The way the air moved over her ear as Remus had spoken had been _delightful…_

"Well, good night Tonks." Looking about, Tonks realised that they had reached the cottage where she was staying now. After giving up her flat when Madam Bones posted her to bodyguard Harry's women, Tonks had moved into one of the smaller cottages on the grounds. It worked in many ways, as not only was she close to her charges, but also close to her parents who had taken up residence in the next cottage along.

Turning to face her companion, she leaned against the doorway. "Remus… you what to help me with the bruise remover?"

Remus sighed slowly. "Tonks, we've talked about this."

"No, you stated your opinion and refused to listen to mine. I thought we were getting somewhere."

"There's no stopping us being friends Tonks. Even close friends. But…"

"…But that's not enough for me." Tonks took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Why?"

Remus shook his head. "You know why. The age gap between us… well, it doesn't look good. But you know that just being friends with me will reflect poorly on you, your judgement and such. If we were to… get close." He blushed slightly. "…You know that some people will push for your dismissal from the Auror force."

Tonks shrugged. "Well, thanks to Sirius, I don't have to worry about that. Let them try and get me fired. Amelia would fight tooth and nail against that anyway. Or do you think she'd bow to public pressure?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

"No. No she wouldn't. But still… I know you think you know and understand, but Tonks… you cannot ever understand what it's like to live with a werewolf… to be a werewolf, without being one yourself. And that is a fate I would never even think of inflicting on someone, no matter who they were."

"Isn't it my choice to take the risk or not?" She challenged. "Besides, that American Indian stuff on Animagi… haven't you been looking into that to help with your furry problem?"

Remus snorted in tired amusement. "Haven't had a chance yet. There's just so much going on right now…"

Tonks sighed. "I guess we'll be having this conversation again and again in the future…"

She looked so despondent that Remus had to try and cheer her up. "Tonks… I do care for you. But I'm… afraid, for you. If the wolf ever got loose… I'd never be able to live myself if something happened to you…"

She cocked her head, looking at him closely. "Maybe that's part of the problem you have with your wolf. You keep it so tightly leashed that it fights you, wanting to be free. And that fight is tearing you apart from within." Pushing the door open, she turned to look back at him over her shoulder. "Perhaps you don't know your own wolf as well as you think. When you get your head out of your ass, you know where to find me." With that she closed the door firmly.

Filled with a sense of rejection, Remus trudged down the path to the road, head bowed in thought. On pure autopilot he trudged into his own cottage, barely aware of the motions of undressing. His thoughts were in turmoil as he took the potions to heal his body after the battering it took after the day with the army. Lying down he tried to sleep, but Tonks words continued to roll through his mind.

Growling in frustration, he got up and pulled a dressing gown on before making his way to the kitchen, aiming to make a soothing cup of tea. As the kettle boiled his eyes landed on the book on the American Animagi theory's that Harry had all but forced into his hands. The whistle of the kettle drew his attention for a few moments, but even as he poured the tea his eyes strayed back to the book.

Almost nervously, Remus sat at the table, tea at his elbow, before pulling the book over and starting to read.

* * *

Vernon Durlsey growled angrily as he pulled into his driveway after a day spent trying – unsuccessfully – to retain his job. He and his family had been released on police bail a few days ago, pending a trial next month. The list of charges against them was longer than one of Petunia's shopping lists. He barely noticed the white van that was parked across the road from his home. Storming inside, he flopped down onto one of the sofa chairs, his weight causing the chair to creak and groan with stress. "Bastards fired me!" He snapped, his face a hue that previously only Harry could achieve. "After all the years of work I put into that company, they fire me over a bloody misunderstanding, and the words of a freak!"

In the sofa-chair next to him his sister Marge scowled over her teacup. "Told you that boy was trouble from the moment he arrived! Nothing but bad luck he's brought on us! When decent, honest people like us get arrested over such a rotten yob…"

In the kitchen Petunia stirred her own tea absently, her face lined and with bags under her redden eyes. Unlike her husband and sister-in-law, she was not deluding herself about the arrests. Seeing her sister again, alive once more, had thrown Petunia for a loop. But spending those days in a police cell had forced her to re-examine her life, what she had achieved with it. Her tears now were for opportunities missed, mistakes made from jealousy and anger. Her conscience, though stunted and weakened by years of neglect, had gained new like and had begun to torment her in her sleep. Again and again she'd seen Harry as an infant, his eyes begging wordlessly 'Why are you doing this? What do I do to deserve this?' even as Vernon pummelled the boy's body into a pulp. No matter how much damage the boy's frail, child body suffered, his eyes remained unharmed, watching her, accusing her. Even when the boy had been reduced to little more than a misshapen lump of torn, bleeding flesh his eyes… her sisters' eyes, had been visible.

Within Petunia the guilt and shame were building, reaching towards unbearable levels. The constant harping of Marge Dursley had not helped. In truth Petunia had not particularly _liked_ Marge that much, even before her marriage to Vernon. Oh she was okay with short visits, but after she'd left each time Petunia had heaved a sigh of relief. Now, with her there constantly, Petunia began to wonder if this was how Harry had felt. Her thoughts were starting to contemplate ending everything; there was no chance for acquittal for any of them, and confessing would not make any difference.

"I say, where's dudders?" Vernon called out, having temporarily exhausted himself in his rant.

"Out somewhere. Tea with his friends I expect." Marge supplied. Looking out the window she scowled. "I wish that bloody van would move. It's an eyesore."

Vernon glanced over his shoulder towards the window, spying the van she was referring to. "Too right it is. Must be making a delivery. Wish they'd hurry up!" Turning away he paid it no mind.

In a sense, Vernon was correct; the van _was _there to deliver something. And Marge would get her wish.

Not that either would live to realise that.

Sat in the passenger seat of the van, Major Greengrass lowered the scope he'd been looking through. "You are certain the boy is not here?"

"Positive Major." One of his men replied. "No trace of any magical in that building. Minor ward traces, but they collapsed at least a year ago. We've only got three adult muggles in there right now."

"Hmmm…" Bearson frowned as he looked back out the window towards Number 4, Privett Drive. Potter wasn't here, though that could be simply because he was out. But then the Wards would still be up. The situation was not ideal at all. And they only had an hour or two before the locals would start investigating the strange van parked there. The charm on the outside kept the filthy muggles from being curious about the van, while still allowing them to see it… and thus not crash one of their cars into it.

The gear they carried within would not react well to such a collision.

Reaching a decision, he look over his shoulder into the rear of the rented van. "Strike."

Within the enclosed rear his men nodded before rapidly assembling the equipment. Once ready the two knelt, already aiming, while the third threw the side door open. With a pair of loud coughs the ordnance was launched.

Marge was just lifting her brandy laced tea again when motion outside caught her eye. "What the…" was all she had time to say before the first Model 7 RPG punched through the lounge window. The paired explosions ripped through the living space of Number 4, totally wiping out the furniture, transformed Vernon Dursley into a cloud of blood and meat fragments, and shredded Marge Dursley's body. The blast tore apart the ground floor's internal walls, and savaged the integrity of the outer walls that bordered the lounge. An outshoot splashed through the dining space, most of it expending itself into the conservatory out back, but some of it whipping into the kitchen area and sweeping the countertops clear of everything. Petunia was blown backwards off her stool, to crash down onto the floor by the sink. Mercifully she was already unconscious as she struck, or as the shattered china rained down on her still form.

A great gout of flame exploded out of the lounge windows, setting several of Petunia's prized shrubs and plants alight, and pealing the paint from the side of Vernon's car. As the flames drew back the building groaned before the whole front of number four collapsed in a shower of bricks. Flames erupted from the rubble, eagerly exploring the upper floor and loft. The fire spread, the dry grass of the front lawn smouldering as the eves that supported the roof began to blacken as the felt lining ignited.

Watching the first eruption of black smoke, Bearson nodded in approval. That should send a clear message to Potter and his allies.

In the confusion and panic, none of the residents of Privett Drive noticed the van that drove away from the scene.

* * *

**A/N: **I did say I had more in store for the Dursleys... There'll be even more explosions next chapter.


	41. Total War

**AN:** Yeap, it's a new chapter already. But short, but I wanted to give you all something to chew over this month. Action, blood and explosions ahead!

Quick Note: I hope I don't offend any real tankers with my depiction of this crew...

* * *

Walden Macnair stood up from where the portkey had deposited him, checking that his axe was still in place across his back without even realising it. It was his favoured weapon, his one true love. He could already hear it whispering to him, pleading for him to wield it. _'Soon, my lovely. You will drink your fill of muggle blood before the night is over, my precious…'_ His short stay in Azkaban had been horrible… not because of the dementors, but because they had separated his axe from him. Each night he'd heard faintly it's cries, clawing at his nerves and filling him with painful longing. When he finally got the chance to carry it once more… it had been a release.

Heavy footfalls prompted him to turn, to see the six giants they were to meet and direct had arrived. This brotherhood were the most eager to spread carnage, to seize the opportunities that Lord Voldemort offered them. And now they would be unleashed on the helpless muggles. After this, the undecided clans would fall in, as The Dark Lord had offered them free rein to plunder and pillage England, and offered Scotland as a new home… all of it.

Of course, Voldemort had no intention of honouring any of those promises… but Macnair didn't know that.

The lead giant, marked out by the horned helmet he wore, looked down at Macnair with obvious disdain. "W'ere now 'uman?" The beast grunted, his monstrous tongue and foreign accent butchering the English language. Macnair only just repressed a shudder: he desired so much to cleave this disgusting things head from it's shoulders. His axe would sing with joy as it drank deeply from giant blood…

"We follow water, Headtaker. We smash all in way. Especially that!" He pointed behind him, towards were four thin looking towers rose up from the banks of the river in the distance. A thin arc rose across between them.

The giant Headtaker, so named because he 'collected' the heads of things that crossed his path, peered into the evening gloom, eyes squinting. His 'collection' swayed from the rough straps that crisscrossed his body. "That thing crossing water?"

"Oh yes." Macnair chuckled. "Make sure smash that! Lot's of muggles to kill on that!"

The six giants advanced, the ground trembling from their footfalls as they advanced along the riverbank of the Thames, towards the distant Queen Elizabeth the Second bridge…

* * *

"I'm telling ya, this things a heap of scrap!"

"Now come on, you don't mean that. They don't make tanks like this any more."

"That's cause it's a pile of junk!"

Corporal Smith Jones sighed as he looked down at the face of his loader Private Mark Summers. The two of them had been in the Royal Armoured Corps 2nd Royal Tank Regiment for almost their entire service careers, and had in fact joined up within two days of each other. Assigned to the same tank nines years ago, they had seen much between them; Kosovo, Iraqi… if the regiment had been there, so had they. Jones had risen to his rank by the promotion of their former commander, but maintained the informal relationship he had shared with the other crew… as much as he could. When in combat, they would be sealed in the tiny internal space within their Challenger, practically on each other's lap. Rank separation tended to get thrown out the window in such circumstances.

"There you go with those negative waves again, Summers. This is a beautiful tank, a living legend." Johns patted the top of the Centurion's turret affectionately.

From the rear of the tank the remaining two crewmen looked at the Corporal, then at each other. "Is he always like this… sir?" The younger asked hesitantly.

Lance-Corporal David MacDonald shrugged lightly. Also from the 2nd, but from another crew, he knew 'of' Corporal Jones, but hadn't really interacted that much. They were from separate companies. But everyone knew how Jones acted – and even looked a little like – the character 'Oddball' from the 'Kelly's Heroes' movie. At times he even played up the act. Donald Sunderland would have been proud.

'_Strange how similar we really are…'_ He thought to himself as he returned his attention to checking out the engine block with their driver, Private Mathew Keens. MacDonald knew he was much more formal than Jones, less willing to be so informal with his crew. Such comments would not have been so easily overlooked in his crew. But then, he'd not had a crew as long as Jones.

But they had more than the corps in common. They both had a daughter who was also a witch.

Jones daughter Megan was in the same year as Harry Potter, but had only barely interacted with the famous young wizard. MacDonald's own daughter Natalie was in fact in the same house as him, but in a much lower year. Ever since they had been contacted by the magical world about their daughter's talents, their families had independently decided to send their children to Hogwarts, despite the expense. And they had both kept an eye on what was going on in that world, as much as the non-magical parents could. What they had seen and read had been… disturbing.

Thusly, it had not been as much of a shock when they had been contacted by the Colonel.

It had been shock to meet Captain Granger. Both knew that name; how could they not, given how close Miss Granger was to a young man who likely was more famous than most movie stars and the Royals put together?

Along with Keens, who hailed from the 1st Queens Dragoon Guards, they had been asked to form a tank crew to support the force that the Colonel and Captain were putting together to fight the resurgent Dark Lord and his minions. Having been briefed on what those scum would and did do to those they looked down on – which just happened to be everyone who did not fulfil their own twisted criteria – it had not been a hard decision at all. Indeed, they could have had almost the whole of the regiment with them, but the need to maintain the secrecy of the magical world won out. It had required some adjustment, but each had slotted into place. Keens, as a recon driver, was ideally suited to sitting 'up front', while Summers was as slick a loader as MacDonald had seen. And having been a gunner before becoming a Tank Commander, he'd yielded to Jones easily.

Then they found out that they would not be using one of their familiar Challenger's. Too modern, too many electrical systems that would almost certainly be shorted out in a magical environment. Instead, they had been tasked with getting a Mark 9/1 Centurion tank, decommissioned twelve years ago, up and running again. In the process, they had slowly bonded together into a single team that worked well together. There were still some rough edges, but those would only be finally eroded in a combat situation. The tank itself was very old, backwards when compared to their normal machines, but they quickly realised that the wizards would not know what to do to stop them.

The report of a pair of Neo-Nazi Tiger tanks joining the ranks of the Dark Lord had all four concerned. The Tigers, despite all their technical issues and age, were still decent heavy tanks. And with magical crews and enhancements, it was expected that they would be far superior to the originals. None of them were looking forward to engaging those beasts. While the Centurion had been designed with the Tiger in mind, two on one odds were never good.

Still, they were doing well. The old beast was up and running, and they'd already gone through a few trials and practice runs. Really all they were doing now were tweaking and adjusting…

A rattling sound drew all their attentions to the table that stood off to the side. The tank was resting in a barn that boarded one of the Army's test ranges. At the table, which had a large jug of coffee resting on a hot plate along with discarded plates and the like, their magical 'contact' started and reached out. Peterson was a junior Auror, just out of the academy with zero experience. He was however a muggleborn, and thus understood the tankers. Lifting a large hand-held mirror he called out "Receive."… just as Jones mobile started to ring.

Peterson watched as the mirror face blanked before showing the visage of his boss, Amelia Bones. _"Peterson, we've got a combined Death Eater, giant attack in progress. Our response teams engaged, but we need more firepower."_

At the same time that Amelia was briefing her Auror Jones was on the phone. "Command this is Turtle, copy?" He said swiftly, having recognised the number as the one for the task force's command centre.

"_Turtle, Command Actual." _The firm tones of Colonel Bones came through, lacing with tension. _"Games on. We've got an attack in progress. Flasher's responding, but need the big stick."_

Peterson paled as he gulped. "Giants?" He squeaked.

Amelia nodded, her expression grim. _"They were moving up the Thames river bank inland when our team intercepted them. They are only a few miles from the town of Gravesend. We think that's their target is the Dartford Crossing." _Peterson shivered. Having grown up in Thurrock, which was on the north side of the crossing, he knew the recently opened bridge all too well. _"Set the portkey to drop the tank three miles east of the town. We need them to take out the Giants."_

For his part Jones was listening to the Colonel, all humour wiped from his face, while using hand gestures to get his crew packed up and ready to roll. "Copy Command. Opposition?"

"_Dozen Munchers confirmed. Six Tall Men in support. Those are your targets. Town Gravesend three miles west of Drop Point. Don't let them get there."_

"Understood sir. We'll get them." Hearing the Colonel hang up Jones took a moment to shudder. Looking up he saw the Auror was still sitting in shock. "Hey! Get over here and plot this thing will ya?" he yelled, snapping Peterson out of his funk. As the youth ran over Jones was already dropping into the commanders seat in the turret.

"What's going on Corp?" MacDonald asked.

"Mixed Death Eater and giant force threatening the Dartford crossing and Gravesend in Kent." The other three men were silent, still. The only sound was the Auror climbing up the hull. "We're being called in to take out the giants."

"How many?"

"Six."

"Crap."

Squatting down behind the turret, Peterson drew his wand before focusing. Before him, attached to the tanks hull, was a rune covered stone slab. This was the portkey stone that had been designed to get the old tank where it was needed. Both the Potter and the Bones Families legacies had been involved in its creation. The Potters had used portkeys to move wounded from battlefields back to secure rear areas for treatment, and to supply their force with food and ammo. As such both the trip and the landing had to be gentle, to spare any discomfort the wounded may have felt. The problem had been that the portkeys had been power hogs, and took days to recharge before they could be sent back. The Bones however had developed easily charmed, programmable portkeys, forerunners for the portkeys the Aurors used to respond to attacks. This enhanced version could even take nebulous target points, such as a set distance from a known point.

Placing his wand on the slab, Peterson focused as he cast the improved charm he'd been taught. The slab started to glow a pale ready, signalling it was ready.

"Set?" he called out, taking a firm hold on the tank himself. He needed to go along to ensure that there would be no witnesses to their arrival.

"Set!" Jones called back.

After a moment to brace himself, Peterson tapped the slab with his wand once more… and the Centurion Tank vanished in a swirl of colour.

* * *

Macnair laughed cruelly as his axe swung down. The Auror's scream transformed into a choked gurgle as the blade slashed through his body from left shoulder to right hip, cutting through robes, bones and organs with equal ease. Macnair was sprayed with the blood of the fatally wounded young man even as he turned away, seeking a new victim.

They had expected the Aurors to respond to their attack, but not this quickly. They had arrived before the giants had even reached the town. Of course, that allowed them all to focus on killing Aurors. So far the first team had been cut down to half strength, none of whom would be getting up again. The second team had already lost one member to a giants club. The remain Aurors were focusing on staying alive, which puzzled Macnair to a degree. They were clearly terrified; they should be fleeing in panic by now. It was if they were just holding them up till more forces arrived…

Macnair shrugged the thought off, hearing his axe's pleased song. More Aurors just meant more blood for him to spill. And soon they would be in amongst the muggles. The town between them and their target was of a decent size, so they should be able to reap a high tally of the filthy vermin. With a town laid waste and the iconic bridge destroyed, the voice of his master would truly be heard…

Macnair's thoughts were cut off as there was a sharp detonation, followed by a loud explosion almost overhead. Looking around, he saw one of the giants was clutching at its stomach… over a gaping wound inflicted in the creatures tough hide. _'No curse is powerful enough to do that to a giant.._' Macnair thought as he watched the giant try to stem the blood flow from the wound. Another 'crump', before a ball of fire and flame erupted higher up on the giants body. It dropped the tree truck it had been holding in its other hand to try and cover the fresh wound inflicted, emitting a loud moan of pain that cut through the sounds of battle. All around them the Aurors, Death Eaters and Giants stopped their battle to look at the wounded monster. It was staggering a little, thick giant blood running down its body to pool on the ground. In the silence, the third 'crump' clearly came from behind Macnair, and he spun around looking for the source even as another explosion blossomed on the giants chest. Looking carefully, Macnair noticed an angular, un-natural form on a low ridge ahead, between them and the town. He frowned, before his eyes widened in shock as the sound came again, along with a tongue of flame from the shape. The backlight of the flame revealed, for an instant, a metallic, squat form.

'_What the hell is a muggle thing doing here?'_

* * *

Through his rangefinder Corporal Jones watched as their fourth shell struck the giant, slipping in through the chest wound already inflicted to detonate within the beasts chest cavity. Blood and gore flew out as the high explosive charge went off.

"That's a kill… but too slow. Load AP." He barked loudly, competing with the grumbling engine. Underneath him Summers gloved hands jumped from the red tipped shell he had been touching to the black tipped ones on the other side of the turret. With quick and fluid movements he had the shell hoisted up, laid in the cradled and rammed into the breach of the 105mm gun that filled most of the space in the turret.

"Set!" He yelled as the breach block locked into place.

"Okay, let's try a head shot…" Jones squinted through his sights. "Target, thirty degrees right. Elevate twenty."

"Thirty right, up twenty." MacDonald replied, spinning the handles to wrest the turret around and elevate the barrel. "Set!"

"Fire!"

The tank bucked as the cannon rocketed back on its slide, the spent casing falling away with a barely heard clank as the breach opened. Evening turned into day for an instant at the muzzle flash, but Jones was focusing on the Giants ahead. The one who'd turned to look their way suddenly jerked back as the narrow shell struck. Looking through his sights, Jones grimaced as the giants face deformed inwards before the back of the head burst outwards, spraying blood and gore everywhere. Jerked back by the impact, the now mindless body slowly fell backwards to crash down onto the ground, thankfully hiding the worst of the injury.

"Kill confirmed. Load!"

The other Giants had turned to see what had killed two of their buddies, and one was already heading their way, each stride eating up the ground between them. Calling out the bearings, Jones forced himself to remain calm even as the towering block of bone and muscle approached.

"Fire!"

This time the shell caught the Giant in the shoulder, spinning it around even as the arm came off in a spray of blood. The wounded creature roared in pain as it clutched at the wound, falling to one knee in pain. This seemed to be the signal as the remaining three began to advance. Their roars of anger could clearly be heard even over the rumble of the Centurion Tank's engine.

"Oh hell… here they come. Load!"

* * *

On the ground Kingsley watched as the three still standing giants broke into a trot, yelling in outrage as they did. He didn't know what the hell the muggle vehicle was doing here – his team had set up temporary Muggle-Repelling and Notice-Me-Not wards on arrival – but he was glad they had. The giants had been the Auror's biggest problem in the engagement, no pun intended. No witch or wizard alone could take one down, though he personally reckoned Dumbledore, The Dark Lord – and maybe Harry Potter, if the rumours were true – could do it. Only working together could more 'normal' witches and wizards hurt them. But to do so they had to ignore the Death Eaters who were with the giants… and with them throwing lethal curses about, doing so would be suicide.

A thought struck Kingsley them. Just before his team had portkeyed in to assist the first team, his boss Amelia had told him that help would be on the way, help that could engage the giants effectively. Was this muggle machine that help, he wondered? Regardless, the giants were advancing on it, leaving his people free to engage the Death Eaters. Still, they had to do something… against three enraged giants, nothing could last long.

"Everyone! Blasting curses to the knees of the nearst giant on my mark! Then engage the Death Eaters!" He bellowed, his deep voice cutting across the other sounds of battle. Spinning on his foot he levelled his wand on the leg of the nearest giant. "Now! _Bombarda!"_

No less than ten curse bolts shot out from various points around him, cutting across the giants legs. A couple missed, but the rest slammed into the legs of the beast. Kingsleys own bolt struck true against the back of the knee, before two others finished the job he started. The Giant yelled in pain and surprise as it pitched forwards as the leg hit could no long support its weight. Blood gushed from the ruined hamstrings as the ground shook from the impact. As if in counterpoint to their attack the Muggle thing fired again, sending another giant reeling backwards. As he turned to engage the Death Eaters who had overcome their shock he heard another shot, but no cry of pain.

* * *

"Shit, get us moving!" Jones yelled as the last giant stomped towards them, the ground shaking under the footfalls. The other giant was pitching forwards to lie face down in the dirt, the two shots to the chest having killed it.

Up front, sat in the tiny, cramped drivers space of the tank, Keens took one glance outside before slamming the tank into reverse. The whole fifty-two ton machine lurched backwards, tossing the crew about even as the stoned bladed axe the last giant wielded swung down to bury itself in the dirt where they had been.

"Stay still, bug! You hurt my boys! You pay! I take your head!" The giant roared, glaring at the strange… thing in front of him. Headtaker had never seen any creature like this before. He wasn't sure which bit was its head, but he'd have great fun finding out! Pulling his axe free, he swung again, only for the thing to jerkily turn and move off to the side, dodging his axe again. "Argh! Keep still so I can cut off your head!"

Jones, having enough of the bellows, popped his hatch and stood up, emerging into the evening sky. Grasping the pintle machinegun that a previous crew had added in years gone by, he swung it about to aim at the towering mass of enraged beast. "How's this for our answer!" He yelled back before sending a stream of 30-cal rounds at the monsters face. Headtaker yelled in pain as dozens of sharp pinpricks jabbed at his face and next. He swung his axe again, this time level with the ground, and connected with the tank's turret. The thick armour withstood the impact, the stone blade breaking apart, leaving a sliver embedded into the metal. Pulling his weapon back, Headtaker looked baffled at the shattered rock blade.

"My axe? How you break? Nufhing break ma Axe before!"

Jones grinned. "Guess you never faced heavy armour before then!" He taunted.

Headtaker roared in outrage before leaping forwards, hands outstretched. Keens did his best, but the giant was faster, his meaty hands clamping down on the sides, fingers thicker than a man's leg pressing in against the wheels. "Come ere you!" he bellowed, his breath washing over the struggling tank. Jones staggered back, coughing. The giants breath stank!

Grunting, Headtaker tried to lift the tank, but even giants had their limits. Jones was quick to act, re-aiming his gun before firing off another stream of rounds at point blank range, joined a moment later by MacDonald firing the 30-cal fitting co-axially to the main gun. Both guns tore into the giant holding them, stabbing into his skin even as he pulled them closer. Headtaker turned his head about, trying to avoid the stings, as he moved one hand to grab the front, before lifting the other up high, the hand closing into a fist. Jones glanced up before dropping back inside the turret… just in time as the giant's fist came crashing down in a ringing impact that stunned the crew. After a few moments Headtaker raised his fist again. This time however before he could hit them again MacDonald fired again, and this time several rounds cut into his eye. Screaming in pain Headtaker let go of the tank to clap both hands over his eye, allowing the tank to lurch backwards out of control for a moment before Keens was able to halt it. After a few moments to regain their breaths, Jones stood up again to look at the giant that was kneeling before them.

"So long buster." He rapped on the turret, and the barrel elevated once more to point right at him. Jones rapped again.

The AP shot burst forth from the barrel, and smashed through Headtakers chest, punching right through his breastbone to pierce his heart. Headtaker felt a terrible pain before everything went numb, and darkness took the rest of his vision.

As the giant's body slumped down Jones turned his attention back to the battlefield. The numerically stronger Auror had almost got the Death Eaters surrounded, but so far neither side looked likely to win. The black robed Death Eaters were hunkered down and hurling curses about. Curses that Jones could tell were lethal ones, based on the briefing they had all received from their Advisor Bellatrix. The Aurors, in contrast, were moving about independently, but only firing back stunners. Each time one of the Eaters fell, another would wake them after a few moments. Only a couple of the Aurors were using serious curses, but on their own they had minimal effect.

Jones shook his head in disappointment at the poor judgement the Aurors were using. They were acting more like a Third World militia than a serious force. "Let's get over there and show them how it's really done." He yelled into the tank, and with a lurch the Centurion advanced again, accompanied by the squealing of metal. Jones winced before sitting down. "Status report people."

"Drives okay, but the wheels are fouling." Keens yelled back from his seat up front. "Once we get back to base I can fix that. That beast forced them too far inwards."

"Loader all okay." Summers reported.

The turret shifted about them, jerkily. "Turret ring's jamming sir." MacDonald reported. "Might loosen up with use. Weapon checks out."

"Okay people, we're still in business." Standing up, Jones looked over the field… and saw movement to the right. "Hey, watch out!" He yelled out of reflex, despite the Aurors having no chance of hearing him.

Two of the Aurors had moved too close to the wounded giant that they had crippled earlier. Seeing a target, the beast swung it's tree trunk club, catching the one like a golfer would. The Auror was flung through the air to crash into a strand of trees, where his broken, mangled body collapsed to the ground. The second clearly was shocked at the sudden attack, as he froze, staring at his buddies corpse. His stationary form was too easy a target for a Death Eater to miss, and a green bolt shot out and impacted him squarely. The Auror collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Damn it." Jones grunted before sitting down once more. "Let's finish the last one off. Right sixty."

Kingsley cursed as two members of his team died within a minute of each other because of their carelessness. He was also frustrated that the others still were only using stunners on the Death Eaters. Dodging a sickly purple curse, he once more cursed Dumbledore and his 'Don't kill under any circumstances' preaching's. His views had permutated almost every level of their society, meaning that even in the face of lethal attack, the Aurors were reluctant to respond in kind. Against non-human creatures, such as the giants, they did not have the same hang ups. But the Death Eaters… It was enough to make him despair.

The report of the muggles big gun firing again prompted him to glance over his shoulder, to see the metal behemoth approaching. The remaining giant, which had been bringing its arm back for another swing, dropped flat to the ground, one hand clutching at its neck even as blood spurted out. Taking several long steps back, Kingsley gave the machine room to enter the circle, drawing attention with its size and the noise it made. The Death Eaters began to rain curses on it, but they just splashed over its front, not even harming it. Kingsley found himself swallowing nervously. This… thing was advancing into the teeth of what several wizards could throw out without flinching, and without effect. Any lingering thoughts or myths that the muggles were helpless against wizards disappeared from his mind.

The machine halted, and for a moment the Death Eaters stopped casting, staring at the dark metallic beast that rumbled threateningly. Then a men popped up from the top. "I suggest you surrender now boys." Jones called out, as the long barrel of the tanks gun lowered ominously to point directly at the Death Eaters.

Two of the smarted members began to step away, lowering their wands. But Macnair snarled and stepped forwards. "Filthy muggle! Your dirty blood will stain this earth, but you will beg me to end your suffering!" He roared out the blasting curse, prompting a half dozen other spells to shoot at the stationary tank. Five explosions rocked the machine… but as the smoke cleared the wizards were shocked to see that the tank was still there. A few blast marks dotted the front plate, and the corner of the right track guard had been shorn off, but overall the effect was negligible.

Jones, having dropped back inside as soon as the first curse was yelled, stood back up. "I take that as a no. Our turn now! Fire!"

The two Death Eaters who had stepped away now threw themselves away from the group, having at least an idea of what was coming. Macnair, enraged beyond reason, charged forward even as the muggle had spoken. That was the only reason the three of them survived when the high explosive round detonated in the midst of the grouped Death Eaters. Shrapnel tore through the group, shredding bodies in an orgy of bloodletting and destruction. Bloody fragments pattered down all around. The two Death Eaters who escaped the blast lay on their bellies, their wands tossed away as they grovelled and prayed for the Aurors to arrest them. Anything was better than facing that metal beast!

Macnair however was not even aware of the events behind him, even as some fragments lodged in his back. Yelling with wild rage he ran up to the tank, axe held high. With all his might and momentum he brought the blade slamming down onto the front, his mind envisaging it cleaving through the skin to the soft muggles that were hiding within. Then the shock of the impact ran up his arm and stunned him. Glaring he swung again, his enchanted axe only producing a clanging sound as it struck.

"This guy doesn't know when to quit." Jones muttered. "Keens, dissuade him."

Down in the front Keens, thoroughly annoyed at the loud clanging sounding over his head, gunned the engine. The tank lurched forwards, bumping into Macnair causing him to stumble back. He swung again, the blade scrapping across the metal, and Keens gunned it again, this time only using the right track. Macnair fell back, his axe falling from his hands. Yelling with a berserker rage he drew his wand and unleashed another blasting curse at point blank range towards the now visible underside.

Keens jumped when the blast came from underneath him. Frantically looking down, he was relieved to see that the hull had held. Hearing another curse being yelled, Keens had finally had enough. He backed the tank back a few paces, before engaging forward drive once more.

Macnair fired off another curse as the tank backed away, and was starting on another when it came forwards again. He only had a second to realise the danger he was in before the right treads came down on his feet. The weight of the tank crushed the bones in his feet to ash almost instantly, the pain knocking him out of his rage. Screaming in pain, he reflexively reached down with one hand to his feet… only for more treads to come down on his hand and thighs as the tank continued to move forwards. Eyes wide in horror, Macnair screamed for mercy, his free left hand scrabbling for the comforting presence of his axe. He could still hear its cries, its desire for blood…

His fingers brushed the handle as his world went dark, his last vision that of metal plates falling onto him.

* * *

Kingsley swallowed back bile as he approached the again stationary and now silent tank, taking great pains to not look at the arm that stuck out from underneath its treads. Most of the Aurors had lost their dinners at Macnairs death, and any fight had long gone out of the remaining Death Eaters. Of the five who'd been caught in the blast, three had been blown to bloody ribbons. Another had died before they had reached him. The last had still been alive, barely. They had started to prep a portkey to send him to St Mungo's, but even as the anti-portkey wards were dropped the Death Eater died. Personally Kingsley thought it was better that way. Not even magical healing could repair the damage wrought to his body. Even had he lived, the Death Eater would have been missing three limbs and been reduced to eating through a straw for the rest of his life.

As he approached, Kingsley watched as the four men who had emerged from within the machine went over it, apparently checking for damage. None of them seemed to care about the arm that stuck out from underneath, casually stepping over it like it was a tree branch. It was blindingly obvious that they were muggles, just from their dress. This put Kingsley in a dilemma. On the one hand standing orders were that any muggle catching sight of anything magical in nature, no matter how fleeting, was to be oblivated. But these four had saved their lives. Kingsley knew that if it hadn't been for their intervention, he nor any of the other Aurors would have seen the dawn.

As if sensing his approach the one turned to look at him. Kingsley took in the thin face with the moustache and close beard. "I guess you're the one in charge here." He said simply.

Kingsley nodded, recognising the voice as the one who'd called on the Death Eaters to surrender. "I am. I just wanted to say, thanks for saving us."

Jones smiled. "Hey man, it's what we were called in to do."

Kingsley frowned. "Called in?"

Jones looked around. "Where's that… there he is." Kingsley turned to see a fresh faced Auror, still wearing the trainee robes, come running up, puffing and panting. As the young man tried to get his breath back, Jones turned back to face the imposing Auror. "This lad here is our magical escort." He smirked. "Besides, we all knew about your world before today."

Kingsley was stunned. Just what was going on here. Turning to the trainee, he levelled his most imposing look on the young man. "Explain this rookie."

Peterson gulped under the towering black man's stare. "Senior Auror Sir, Madam Bones ordered the deployment."

"Madam Bones?" Kingsley frowned.

"Yes sir. Part of a joint project between herself, the muggle Military, and Harry Potter." The last name was said in an awed tone.

Kingsley sighed. "I see." He said, purely to give him time to think, as he didn't see at all. "I think, once we've got back to the Ministry, that I'd better have a talk with Director Bones." He walked away, shaking his head slightly.

Peterson looked back at the crew as Summers walked around from the front. He followed Jones over as the older man stepped over to meet him. "crazy fool actually thought he could damage a tank with an axe. I'm telling ya, these wizards are nuts!"

"Hey, don't blame me. I doubt any of them have even seen a tank before." Jones commented.

"Ugh, excuse me, but who are we talking about?" Peterson asked nervously.

From above MacDonald answered in a deadpan tone. "You're standing on him."

Peterson looked down.

Kingsley paused at the scream, and looked back to see the trainee leaping backwards away from the arm that stuck out from underneath the metal beast, the fingers just brushing the handle of a massive axe. Shaking his head, Kingsley turned back to the clean-up operation.

The kid would learn.


	42. Squaring Away

**A/N:** Rumours of my death ( or more importantly, this story's) have been greatly exaggerated. I'm sorry to everyone for the long wait, but both Real Life & the dreaded Writers Block rose up together. Trust me when I say that I want to finish writing this as much as you want me too.

I would like to a moment to dedicate this chapter to my Grandfather, whose funeral was on Wednesday... just 48 hours before he would have turned 89.

'To Frank,

16 Nov 1923 - 23 Oct 2012

Lovable rogue to the end.'

* * *

x-x-x-x-x

* * *

When Major Greengrass entered the hall of Malfoy Manor, he paused for a moment at the sight of the Dark Lord scowling, while a robed Death Eater crawled away. From the whimpers and gasps coming from him, Voldemort had inflicted the Crucitius on him. Clearly, the news he brought had not been to the Dark Lords pleasing. From the expression on his face, Voldemort appeared to be in a murderous mood. He considered turning around and coming back later, once Voldemort had calmed down from whatever it was that had enraged him, but his entrance had not gone unnoticed. "Greengrass! Do you have Potter?"

Discreetly Greengrass made sure his wand was loose in its holster before approaching the Dark Lord. "I'm am afraid to report that Potter was not at his summer muggle residence."

For a long moment Voldemort said nothing. Greengrass would have relaxed, had the scowl not deepened. "Explain… this." Voldemort hissed finally, the sounded echoed by the large snake that was coiled around the legs of the throne on which he sat.

"There were no wards present at the dwelling." Greengrass begun. "There were traces, indicating that there had been at some point. It looks like he never actually returned to that home this summer."

Another long silence. "And where did the _muggles_ say he went?"

Swallowing nervously, Greengrass shifted his hand a little closer to his wand. "After observation, I determined that none of them would assist. From what we overheard, they hate the boy almost as much as yourself. So I enacted your orders regarding the muggles and their home."

Voldemort learned forwards. "You killed them?"

"Blew up their house with them inside." Greengrass clarified. "The chances of survival…"

"You fool!" Voldemort roared as he stood up straight rapidly, wand appearing in his hand instantly. "You said you would deliver me Potter. We know he's not with any of his _friends_. Now without that dwelling, we have no contact for where he might be!" Anger blazed in Voldemort's eyes. "You have failed!"

"Have a care, Voldemort." Greengrass snapped back, his ire raised. "I only said it was a possibility that we could acquire him there. 'When your enemy goes to ground, leave no ground to go to'."

"Don't make useless quotes to me!" Voldemort raged, his wand coming up. "You failed in your mission, and you know how I punish failure…"

Greengrass whipped his own wand out as he spun out of the path of the torture curse. Bringing it around he snapped off a wordless disarmer, but the Dark Lord just batted it away. Voldemort responded with a wide area cutting curse, forcing the major to duck and roll to evade it. Even as he did, he heard the dreaded words. "_Avada_ _Kedavra_!"

He tried to roll again, but his lack of an arm hindered the motion. But then… no green light washed over him. Looking up, he saw one of his Storm-Wizard bodyguards crumple to the floor, green traces running over him. The other was throwing himself to the side, scrabbling for cover.

Greengrass understood then. His bodyguards, who had stayed by the door, had seen the duel start and had begun to move up to defend their superior. Voldemort however had not forgotten them.

"Stay out of this!" He yelled even as another spell came from the Dark Lord.

"Yes… we would not want _too_ many of your men falling now, do we?" Voldemort sneered.

In his youth, Greengrass had been a deadly and highly skilled dueller, partly because he'd become proficient in using his pistol in his off hand. He'd risen fast in the ranks of the Magi-SS due to a combination of his skills and mentality. But age was draped over him now, and he had never fully recovered from the vicious duel he'd had with his brother so long ago, in which he'd lost his arm. Since then, he'd been forced to rely solely on his wand work. Most of the time, he was able to simply wait his foe out, allow them to drain themselves before launching vicious counter-attack. Others he'd simply crushed under a deluge of dark curses.

Voldemort, however… Greengrass found himself having to revise his opinion of the Dark Lord. He'd already sensed that he was powerful, but the display Voldemort was putting on was of an even higher level than Greengrass had expected. But this wasn't mindless power and brutality: it was directed, controlled, malicious. A mere flick of his bone handled wand dissipated or deflected the strongest curses Greengrass could throw out, all while moving with languid moves. There was none of the at times frantic moves Greengrass had to perform to evade the chains of over-powered curses that lashed at him; the Dark Lord could have been having a mock duel with school children. Greengrass had settled into a holding pattern, waiting for the Dark Lord to tire. But after several minutes Voldemort showed no signs of fatigue at all, when any other wizard would have been flat on their backs out cold from sheer magical exhaustion by now. Instead, Voldemort continued to throw around over-powered curses and hexes like they were going out of style. And not just those, but charms and some transfiguration spells were also thrown into the mix, forcing Greengrass to deal with unexpected diversions. A hanging tapestry became a mirror, and Greengrass had to shield from two directions at once, as the Dark Lord was bouncing some of his spells off it to come at him from behind.

All too soon it ended, as a step back to evade yet another killing curse turned into a sudden fall backwards. Greengrass gasped as the wind was knocked out of him from the impact with the stone floor. Struggling to rise, he glanced down to see that Voldemort had transfigured one of the stone slabs into grey coloured liquid mud, making a hidden foot trap. He had not more time for reflection as another barrage of spells came at him. A hastily cast shield held them back… but not the Crucitius that followed.

Pain worse than even the separation of his arm tore through him, and Greengrass lost count of time or even awareness of his surroundings. Then the pain ended, though every nerve still stung. Faintly he heard a clattering sound, as if a body laden with metallic objects had fallen to the floor. Then the Dark Lord was stood over him, one boot kicking his wand away.

"Never forget who is the master here, Greengrass." Voldemort spoken menacingly, before his wand pointed right at him. "_Avada_ _Kedavra_!"

The green bolt shot out… and impacted a couple of inches to the right of Greengrasses head. Blinded by the flash of green light, he turned head away from the impact point, the very real sense of fear pounding through his veins.

"Don't fail me again Major, or next time I won't miss deliberately." The dark shape that was Voldemort straightened and turned away. "Come Nagini."

A rasping sound acted as counterpoint to the Dark Lords footfalls as they receded.

* * *

Walking down Diagon Alley, Harry tried very hard not to notice the looks from those his group passed by. While his family had over the summer talked with him about the benefits of his status and fame, he still didn't like it. He admitted it had its uses, but he really didn't like the fame at all.

Still, at least today it wasn't just him that was the centre of attention. Almost the entire extended Potter family had come to the Alley together. Due to their numbers, it had been decided that the Potter Estate would purchase a minibus to transport everyone in one good, as Amelia had warned that the Floo was still unsecured in her view. While the old lockdown she'd discovered had finally been removed, she didn't trust the staff in that department at all.

Of course, the number of staff she trusted with her niece's life outside her own could be counted on both hands, with fingers left over.

While most of her time was being taken up with plans for teaching a vastly updated Muggle Studies course next year, Lily had used the purchase of the minibus as a practical lesson in runes and charms, and how they could be combined. Based on the work she and the Marauders had done on her car, the family had gone over the blocky, inelegant vehicle, adding similar charms and engraved runes. It didn't look like much – Fleur in particular had not been enamoured with it - but that minibus was almost as tough as a tank now, what with the fortification runes and bunker charms placed on it. After Ginny had let slip the event at the Burrow, Arthur Wealsey had overseen the whole thing… and had been incessantly asking about how the vehicle worked. Several times Lily had to smack his hands away from components before he got hurt.

It had struck Harry then just how misinformed the Magical World really was regarding the Non-magical one. Arthur was supposed to be the Ministry's expert on all things muggle, but he was woefully out of date, and frequently mispronounced common words… which Lily had not tolerated at all.

Over the course of the day as they worked, Arthur's promotion at the Ministry had come up. He had clearly been pleased as punch at his elevation… that is until Harry had noted something.

His old role had been to protect Muggles from the pranks of mean spirited magicals. His office had barely been more than a broom cupboard, and he'd had one assistant.

His new role was to protect magicals from a flood of counterfeit protective items, amulets and the like. He now had an office area that matched the Durlsey's total ground floor plan, and almost two dozen witches and wizards as assistants.

When Harry had raised this contrast, Arthur had appeared bewildered at why it was an issue… while the muggles and muggleborns in their group had scowled.

Arthur had returned home a man with a lot on his mind after the ensuring 'discussion'.

Forcing thoughts of the elder Weasley from his mind, Harry glanced around the Apothecary, their first stop on their trip. With all the Hogwarts bound students in their group here, plus adults, they almost filled the store themselves. Emma Granger was the only exception: she was waiting outside, as the contents of the store made her queasy. Harry, having already gathered all the items needed to top up his potions kit, allowed his thoughts to wander once more.

The news of the defeated Death Eater/Giant attack in Kent had clearly help boost the morale of the Magical world. What had _not_ been released to the press, which Amelia had told them later, was the main reason the attack had been thwarted… the tank belonging to the Army group Daniel had been training. It had been a relief that their controversial and risky idea had already proven to be effective. It was hoped that when the infantry engaged, they produced similar results.

Although the magical world was focused on the events in Kent, the Family had been distracted by news of a more personal nature. The Surrey Police Force had contacted them, relaying the explosion at Privett Drive. Both Vernon and Marge Dursley were pronounced dead at the scene, while Petunia was still in hospital, her condition critical, but stable. At first the police and fire service had thought it was a tragic accident, but investigation had discovered fragments of explosive devices, thus they were investigating. Harry doubted they would find anything, but within the Family it was reckoned that Voldemorts Magi-SS were behind the attack.

His mum Lily had actually gone to visit her sister in the hospital, but things hadn't gone well. As soon as Petunia had seen her she'd started screaming and swearing, blaming everything on her and her 'Freaky' family. It had made Petunia's condition worse, and put Lily in a depressed mood for a couple of days. The others had rallied round her, showing how much they loved and respected her. The fate of Dudley however, was still very much up in the air. He'd been out of the house during the attack, and now in 'protective custody' while the police and Social Services tried to figure out what to do with him.

Once the last ingredients were purchased the group moved on. As they walked down the Alley, Harry couldn't supress the smile that formed on his face… not that he wanted to. On his right arm Hermione walked with her arm linked through his. Where she'd always been ever since they'd met really. But it was Lily on his other side that really put the smile on his face. He'd always been slightly envious of the other kids, walking around with their parents. Now he had his mother back.

As they passed Florish & Blots Hermione started to drift away, but Harry refused to let her go. "Remember you promise." He said teasingly. Hermione huffed, but he could tell that she was not truly annoyed. Before they had left, they had almost had to force her to promise to stay out of the bookstore until the end, when they would all gather their new books. Harry knew, from experience, that once within the shop Hermione would lose all track of time. By making sure that they visited the bookshop last, they could get everything they needed without rushing… and be sure to have the gold to pay for everything. Behind the pair Lily chuckled softly, though she too gave the bookstore a longing look.

It was as they were crossing the open area before Gringotts that Harry froze. "What's wrong Harry?" Daphne asked as she and her sister Astoria came up behind them with their mother. Seeing that he was looking towards the entrance to Knockturn Alley, everyone turned to look… to see a very recognisable head of hair emerging from the dark alley. Seemingly to feel eyes on him Draco Malfoy looked up, straight into Harrys glare. His features twisted into a scowl of hatred and his mouth started to open, likely to let an insult fly. But then his eyes moved over the group, and he appeared to decide that this time it was not worth it… likely because the Head of the DMLE was stood there watching him like a hawk. With a toss of his head he walked down the other side of the street towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Damn, way to spoil a good day." Hermione muttered.

"I'm rather more concerned about why he was in Knockturn to start with…" Daphne said softly, her tone troubled.

"Whatever he was doing, it can't be good." Harry stated firmly. "I'd bet he was on a mission from Voldemort."

"That's a sucker bet if there ever was one." Susan chimed in as her Aunt sighed.

"Regardless of our personal opinions, there is no law against being in… that, Alley." Amelia said, her tone laced with frustration.

Behind her Daniel Granger was looking between her and the alley way. It _looked_ like the stereotypical dark, dangerous alleyway. "I assume you've not swept it clean because it suits you to know it's there?"

Amelia turned to regard the former solider with some surprise, before he expression morphed into one of resigned amusement. "Partly. At least while all the shady dealing are going on down there we can monitor and keep most people away." She sighed deeply. "But the main reason is simply I don't the manpower or the backing to root out all the undesirables down there. And those that fought back would take a lot of my Auror's with them. We'd be crippled. I can't risk that."

"Hmmm…" Daniel took another long look at the Alley as the group walked past. Harry was sure that the former solider was forming and discarding military plans to scourge Knockturn in his mind.

A few moments later all thoughts of Draco or Knockturn were driven from their minds, as the front of the Weasleys twins shop had come into view. It was radically different to how they had last seen it… in fact it was impossible to miss it. Bright, almost garish colours and sparkles forcibly grabbed ones attention and drew one in. _'I'll give it to them. They certainly know how to capture attention.' _Lily thought as she followed her son towards the shop. She paused however when she saw the one advertisement.

**'Why are you worrying about**

**You-Know-Who?**

**You should be more worried about**

**You-No-Poo!'**

Despite herself, Lily could not help but laugh at the send up of the Ministry warning posters the Twins had created. The front of the shop was swarmed by younger children, all gaping at the products on display. Overhead, a floating board the size of a pool table announced:

**'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes will be opening TODAY!**

**(Less than an hour to go now!)'**

Harry led the group down the side alley to the twins private entrance. Once they were all there, he knocked crisply on the door. Barely a moment later the door flew open.

"Harry!"

"And Family!"

"Esteemed benefactor!"

"Welcome to our dream!"

Harry looked at the two, slightly shocked. Not at their greeting, that was expected. It was their outfits. Harry had had visions of neon pink or glaring yellow robes, clothing that would have been as eye watering as eye catching. Instead however, the pair of them wore rather muted dark red robes, from under which the collars of dark grey shirts could be made out. The final image was rather understated, for them.

"Hey guys. I see you're ready to go."

The twins grinned diabolically. "Oh we are."

"Everything's in place."

"Fully stocked."

"Come see!" They said together now, both reaching out and latching onto an arm, almost dragging Harry through the rear workspace to the shop floor. The rest of their group followed on behind, guided by a ruefully smiling Alicia, wearing a similar outfit to the twins.

Stepping through, the change in the shop floor from Harry's first visit was breath taking. It was riot of colour and motion. Everything and anything bounced, hopped, squawked and squeaked for attention from all sides, every shelf and row. Behind the counter, clearly ready to serve, was a blonde-haired young woman in a similar outfit to Alicia's. Hermione thought she looked vaguely familiar, but couldn't place the face.

The twins now released Harry, stepping forwards before spinning to face them all from a clear region of the shop floor, just before the counter. "Dear friends…"

"…Esteemed colleagues…"

"…We bid you welcome…"

"…to the greatest shop on Earth…"

"…Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!" They both threw an arm out, clearly encompassing the whole shop.

"Feel free to look around."

"Don't be afraid to ask for details…"

"…on anything that catches your eye!"

"And remember…"

"…As your Harry's Family…"

"…You get a discount!"

"One hundred per cent, in fact." They paused for a moment.

"In fact, if you think about it…"

"…Which we did extensively…"

"…You get things for free!"

Harry shook his head. "Guys, that's too much. This is your livelihood."

The twins suddenly sobered up. "Harry, you _gave_ us this."

"Without those winnings, we'd never have gotten here."

"And let's not forget he of pranking fame…"

"…Padfoot, also known as Sirius."

"We've learned so much…"

"…Nuggets of wisdom…"

"…that this is the only way…"

"…we can repay."

After that, any protest died in Harry's throat. Tentatively at first, the group fragmented, each member browsing at will. Lily was pleasantly surprised to see that the two really had taken on-board what she'd told them, after their 'prank' on Daniel. There were less of the 'trap' pranks than she'd feared at first, and more items that were clearly intended for group fun and amusement. Oh, quite a few things could still be used for pranking, but nothing would have lasting effects beyond a half hour, usually. She nodded with satisfaction at some of the warnings the twins had put on the products, warning that the items were not intended for use on muggles or the very young or elderly.

Daniel chuckled when he found the section devoted to muggle 'magic' tricks, card games and the like. Some of the ring puzzles he heartily approved of, as they were not only toys but also taught useful traits and skills.

The girls all cooed over the pygmy puffskins that rolled around in their glass container, though Daniel had barked out a laughter at the sight, before asking how many they started with, and how much they had been feeding the little fur balls. He'd then gottening into regaling the twins with the story of the Tribbles, which had prompted the pair to look at the collection they had a little nervously.

Harry was looking closely at the 'Ship in a Bottle' display, which featured a moving ship on perfectly scaled waves. According to the details, the waves and even weather within the bottle could be set to whatever the owner wanted, just with their wand. They could also put a model of whatever ship was desired in the bottle, from the 16th century sailing ships to modern warships, or so they claimed. Harry figured they were hoping to tap some of the muggleborns for details for the more modern craft. He was considering asking them to put a replica of his ancestors ship, the _Pegasus_, in a gallon bottle, when he heard Hermione call out. "Harry, Fred, George. Come over here." Harry hurried over to where her voice came from, heeding the dangerous tone in her voice.

As he reached Hermione, Harry saw they most of their group had converged on her. She was stood facing one shelf, her expression one of tightly controlled outrage, which made Harry swallow reflexively. Fleur was stood next to her, not even trying to hide her outrage.

"You called, Hermione?" One of the twins asked nervously, clearly having picked up on the danger signs.

"Oui. What are _those_ doing here?" Fleur answered for both women, her hand shooting out to point towards the shelf. Harry turned his head to look, and instantly scowled.

A pink box sat on the shelf, with rows of heart shaped bottles within, each filled with a dark red liquid. The sign saing 'Love Potion' was kind of redundant. Harry turned to regard the twins. "Well?" He asked questioningly.

The nearest twin gulped. "Well… they're kind of a tradition…"

"There's always been love potions…"

"…Always will be."

"These aren't powerful at all."

"Last only fifteen minutes, at best."

"A lot can happen in fifteen minutes, boys." Eleanor said coldly, her eyes hard.

"Yes… what if a girl gets drugged with one of these, and throws herself at a boy that normally she hates?" Daphne asked cuttingly. "Say… Ginny and Draco?" Both twins winced then shuddered at the mental image, before going ghastly as Daphne pushed on. "And suppose they fumble into a broom closet, and both forget about the contraception charm… why, there'd be a good chance you'd end up uncles to one of Draco's kids. Do you _really_ want to risk that happening?"

The pair looked at each other. "When you put it like that…"

"…We did try to make sure that it'd be obvious if someone was under the influence…"

"Not good enough." Daniel now stepped in, towering over the two young men, who found themselves backing away from the soldier. "You are both young men. Would you really turn down a girl throwing herself at you?"

They both jerked a thumb at Harry. "Harry would."

Harry rolled his eyes as Nevile snorted.

Seeing the looks around them, the twins looked at each other. "Maybe we should reconsider…"

"…Maybe we should." They were already moving the box off the shelf.

"No need to antagonise our benefactor…"

"…or the man capable of breaking us in half…"

"…or the half-dozen or so very powerful…"

"…not to mention beautiful…"

"…and scarily intelligent…"

"…witches that are close to said people."

Once the love potions had been taken out back, the tension relaxed. Harry decided to have the 'Bottle-ship' as something to take with him to Hogwarts. A couple of other items were chosen, before the group made their exit. Lily lingered a moment to give both twins a long, hard look, which had both bowing their heads in shame, before following her family out the side door. As they moved away they could all hear the joyous yelling as the Twins shop opened its doors to paying customers.

Then the bookstore was ahead, and Lily forgot all about the Twins blunder as she rapidly followed Hermione inside, the rest of the family following in their wake.

* * *

A few days later Daniel Granger smiled slightly as he leaned against the wall, watching the young group walk across the lawn of Potter Manor. He could no longer really call them teens anymore, he supposed.

It was another glorious August summer day, the sun shining down on the Manor brilliantly. Ever since sun up he'd put them all through their paces, training and conditioning them. Now, after a noon shower, he'd turned them loose for the rest of the day to unwind. They were only a few days away from returning to Hogwarts, and he insisted they make the most of the remaining time.

As always, Harry was in the centre of the group. It was around him that they had gathered, forging their group identity really. He really was a one-of-a-kind, humble but honest, courageous and caring. And so determined. Daniel had to - very reluctantly - thank the Dursleys for that aspect of his character. No matter what he threw at him, Harry just kept on going, pushing himself to the limit. In fact Daniel often had to pull him back, before Harry hurt himself by pushing himself beyond his limits.

Right now though the young man could just what he was, a young man with messy hair that was still damp from a shower and a large classic picnic hamper in his left hand. His right arm was linked with Tracy's today. The dark haired girl had come a long way from the reserved, closed off person she'd been when she first arrived. Oh she still played the 'goth' look, but it was much less bold, less obvious. The toning down of the dress showed how she had become much more confident in herself and her own body. She'd started to tan a little as well, the other girls accepting her as an equal, allowing the walls to come down.

Hermione and Luna walked slightly to the other side, Luna's pet mini dragon cavorting and circling above them. His niece had come a long way from the shy, demure young girl he remembered from his last visit to his brother's family, who more often than not hid herself away in her books. Now she was a stunningly beautiful and confident young lady, whose brilliance, intelligence and compassion shone through.

Daniel chuckled to himself. Harry seemed to have a knack for attracting the attention of such young women. His eyes wandered across the rest of the group. Fleur Delacour would always stand out, as she was beauty defined. There had been times when he'd found himself just watching her, enthralled by her beauty for a few moments. But as she got closer and closer to Harry, those moments became less often. Effortlessly elegant, she had also shown that her wit was as great as her beauty. And her defence of Harry that one time… Daniel had been forced at points to play the 'Bad Guy' with their training, especially with Harry. As the lead member, he had to remain focused on the goal, not react to the enemy's taunts and threats. It had been something that Daniel had picked up on early on: Harry was deathly afraid of those around him getting hurt, or worse, due to their association with him. It was something that a canny foe would exploit, and so Daniel had had to tackle the issue head on: there was no time for gentler, more subtle methods. It had been, difficult, as he truly _liked_ the young man, but it had to be done. But an unexpected side effect of the process had been to draw out the girls own protective instincts for Harry. All six of them had been much more aggressive about it, but Fleur had been something else.

It had been a massive shock to him when, the one time, she had come at him in an almost berserker like state, her body changing even as she hurled herself at him. Fingers had turned to claws, eyes narrowed and great feathered wings had sprouted from her back, while honest to god flames had wreathed her arms and hands, occasionally lobbed at him in the form of fireballs. It had taken Harry to call her off: Daniel had been playing defensive, as he didn't want to hurt her. It had been clear in her altered eyes that Fleur had been horrified at her change, before she had fled into the forests. Harry had followed while the others had filled him in on Fleur's nature. When the two had returned, Fleur back in her normal form, she had apologised but Daniel had waved that off: for what he had to do with Harry, it was deserved. He'd also complimented her on the powers, but she had to learn control. The two had worked some more independently on her maintaining focus and control even while transformed. From what he'd heard, the magical animagus training had helped her as well.

Of course, the others were not slouches in the beauty department either. Both Daphne and Susan each filled one of the 'classic' ideals of beautiful women, the 'Swedish Blonde' and the 'Buxom Redhead'. Daphne's grace and elegance was second only to Fleur, while Susan's figure was well toned as well as full. Both however were brilliant in their own right, though he would always say Hermione was the true genius in the group. But then, she was his niece.

Luna had seemingly slotted in perfectly as a little sister to Harry, the two understood each other, even on the increasingly rare occasions when she would say something completely off the wall or obscure. It normally took a lot of thought to work out just she was talking about when she got into that mood. Daniel had sensed early on the fragile state she was in, but in this Luna was truly in luck. She was surrounded by people who cared for and loved her, allowing her to find her own strength and her feet once more. He could just tell that anyone trying to get close to her – and well they might, as she was blossoming into an attractive young woman in her own right – would have a lot of very intelligent and powerful people watching them closely. He doubted than anyone who even thought about doing her harm would find themselves in a world of hurt.

Slightly apart from that group was the young couple of Neville and Hannah. Young Neville had become as close as a brother to Harry, something the boy badly needed. They both did, really. Daniel had had to work Neville hard at first to get him to stand up for himself, but there was a core of steel within him. The problem had been that Neville hadn't known, or believed, that it existed. Young Hannah was clearly a good match for him, as her cheerful, outgoing personality helped bring the reclusive Neville out of his shell without making it a war. She gentle coaxed him out, rather than dragged him. She'd had the most trouble at first focusing on things, and even now was the most reluctant to engage in conflict. But she could hold her own, and that was enough for now, as Neville fought well enough for three others.

"You look pleased with yourself."

Daniel turned his head to regard the woman approaching him. Narcissa Black had also come quite a way from how she'd been when they first met. Some extra flesh had been layered over her figure, though she would always be slender. The paleness of her skin had given way to a healthier light tan, and while she still moved with grace, she'd dropped the forced perfectionism that had lingered for a while. Her new life appeared to agree with her.

"Just contemplating the Gang." He nodded towards the group who were disappearing into the tree line. Narcissa stopped besides him, her eyes on the small figures.

"Yes, they have come on a lot since they came here." She mused. Daniel took a moment to look at her once more. The skin of her jaw and neck had filled out, giving her a more natural, graceful look. Her brow had relaxed, the blond hair falling more freely. Early on she'd maintained tightly drawn hairstyles, but as of late she'd relaxed that.

"As have you. And your sister."

Narcissa nodded in reply. Bellatrix had changed the most since they had all moved to Potter Manor. The formerly gaunt, almost withered woman had regained a measure of her youthful figure, though she suspected the marks of Azkaban and service to Voldemort would forever haunt her. Her frame was more wiry than skeletal now, and her hair had regained some lustre. The largest change had been in her eyes though. Now they danced with a little light once more, instead of being filled with pain, malice or fear. Narcissa suspected that Bella still held herself accountable for what she'd done while a servant of Voldemort, but at least she no longer seemed suicidal. What would happen after Voldemorts was defeated though… she couldn't fathom.

"It's a very… relaxing and soothing place. I can almost _feel_ the protectiveness of the grounds wards." She turned her head partly to look back at him. "I felt most safe last night though."

Daniel shifted as a slight tinge filled his cheeks. The two of them had sat down for a simple late meal together, as they had both been kept away from the main family meal for their own reasons: he'd been hip deep in welding the Military Team into an effective force, while Narcissa had been going over the Wizengamont's billings. It hadn't been planned, but the two had eating together, talking about a range of subjects. Daniel had been surprised at how easily he'd been able to talk with the witch, as normally he'd struggled with the opposite sex. Only Emma, his brother's wife, could he converse with freely normally.

"You're welcome. I enjoyed your company as well." Narcissa smiled shyly, emotions she hadn't felt since she'd been a teenager rising within her. "It's nice to relax and slow down once in a while." Daniel continued.

"Hmm, I have to agree." She looked at him a bit closer. "So… what's next on your agenda?"

Daniel half shrugged. "Well, I need to go over some deployment plans with the force, look over the Potter's old plane my son's been raving about…" He looked at her, a slow smile forming as he saw the fading look in her eyes, the slight tremble of her lips. "…But I'm sure I can make time for lunch with a lady, if she wishes it." He said as he offered his arm to her.

Narcissa's smile returned full force as she threaded her arm through his, accepting the invitation. "I'd be delighted."

* * *

Sitting on the bank of the stream, Katie sighed softly. _'Mum would have loved it here.'_ She thought morosely. _'She'd have loved the history of this place…'_

A single tear tracked down her cheek as Katie thought about her murdered parents. Their funeral had been earlier in the day, driving home that they were gone. And though in her head she knew it wasn't true, in her heart she felt so alone. The others tried to help her – her teammates, Harry's expanded family – but they couldn't touch her deep enough.

The twins had been sombre, for them, for most of the day. But as the afternoon wore on their natural exuberance had broken free. Their tricks and gags had lifted her spirits a bit. For a little while.

Thoughts of her parents drifted back in. Her mother had been a history teacher, while her father an architect. Both would have been thrilled to visit Potter Manor she mused. Her mother for the history that was so ingrained into the place you could almost touch it. Her father would have found the buildings fascinating. The way the Potters had over the years reworked what would have been an austere barracks into a welcoming, comfortable home…

Feeling an upsurge of grief, Katie fought back tears as she grabbed the broom that lay to her side. Mounting it, she took to the skies, losing herself in the feel of the air rushing over her face, sending her tears trailing back. Shooting into the sky, she immersed herself in her flying, leaving all her worries and fears behind on the ground. Pushing her broom to the limit, she flew about as if she were playing a match, only without the other players or the balls involved.

After some time she pulled back on the handle, bringing the broom to a hover. Breathing heavily Katie pushed her hair back, feeling the first beading of sweat on her brow. The flight had been a release, an escape from her depression, no she was loath to end. Sitting back she looked around.

Below her feet Potter Manor was spread out in all its glory under the summer sun. It was only from the air that one truly realised the scale of the grounds. From here she could see almost all the buildings that made up the manor. The Bones manor rose up to her right, while to her left the glass roof of the refurbished Greengrass home shone in the sun. Just to the side of her left knee the Potter's artificial cove shimmered, gentle waves lapped at the pale sand ahead. On the rocky outcropping she had a good view of the ruined watchtower that stood on the top, clearly once a sentinel that looked out over the valley behind her. Further out to her left the M25 was a rippling, multi-coloured thread the roar of the engines muted partly by distance but mostly by one set of the wards that protected the manor. Those same wards kept her safe from view, or rather notice. From what had been explained to them when they first moved here, instead of the much more common Muggle repelling wards, Potter Manor used a ward that acted more like a 'Notice-Me-Not' charm instead. People outside them could see her on her broom if they looked, but the sight would not register.

To her right the expanse of the Monkswood Forest stretched out to the horizon, a sea of green treetops and waving branches. Just at the limits of her vision she could make out the first elements of the city of London. A couple of roofs poked up out the forest, but by and large the land was dominated by the trees.

Nearer to hand however was a open region of grass, set on the slope of a shallow hill, the rear edge boarding the extent of the property. Small white, grey and black marks were scattered over the hillside, which had a commanding view of the manor grounds. Katie shivered in spite of the summer sun shining down. That area was the ancestral graveyard for the Potter family. Generations of Potters, and those close to them, were buried there. The family didn't go up there much, though there had been one mass visit a couple of weeks after they had all moved in. Lupin and Harry had carried between them a marker stone, and laid it down beside the grave of his father, James Potter. Lacking a body to bury, it had been the only way for them to say goodbye to Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and the one who had been the instrument of the Potter Family rebuilding itself. Despite her own grief, it had been heart rendering to see Harry make his goodbyes, to say nothing of Professor Lupins. The poor man had broken down beside the marker, clearly lamenting the loss of his last childhood friend.

Most disturbing of all had been Lily Potter's breakdown at the grave of her husband. Normally she was so poised, so collected and self-assured. To see such a strong woman drop to her knees in tears, tracing with a finger the engraved name in the headstone, which had clearly been out there for years... It brought home just how much this family had been hurt that night. For the first time Katie saw the truth behind the 'Boy-Who-Lived' myth. There was nothing to celebrate about Halloween, not for this family.

A noise intruded into her thoughts, breaking her away from her gloom. Looking around, Katie realised that it had been growing for a little while, but she'd not paid any attention to it. Motion out of the corner of her eye made her turn to look up... and she smiled slightly in reflex, the tension in her muscles easing. It was then that she recognised the sound.

The easily recognisable shape of a Spitfire was approaching. The noise had been the sound of its Rolls Royce Merlin engine. It had given the Pure-blooded in their number a chuckle when that little fact had been mentioned around them. The famous fighter changed direction slightly, and Katie watched as it began to bank round. The sunlight played across the aircrafts skin, the RAF insignia proudly displayed.

As she watched the plane, Katie's smile widened a bit more. Richard Granger had kept himself in the background, but he'd been a wonderful new friend. He'd been much more approachable than any of the other adults around. Only Lily was better, but her time was taken up with her own son and Luna, her duties in the government, managing the Potter estate, and recently her attempt to modernise the Muggle Studies course at Hogwarts. Richard however... his only real duty had been doing the training course to fly the old fighter... which he'd passed a week ago. Since then, he'd been up almost every day, getting the feel for the old but lovingly maintained fighter.

Surprisingly for her, the two of them had gotten on extremely well, easily able to spend hours just talking about anything and everything. While he was most interested to hear about Hogwarts and his cousins time and experience's there, he'd also been interested in her. For her part, Katie had been enthralled with his life, how he'd pushed himself to make it into the RAF, the training he'd gone through to achieve his wings.

Acting on impulse, Katie kicked her broom to full speed, racing up on the slow moving aircraft. Coming up alongside, she slowed down a little to match speed. The roar of the engine cut off any other sound, but her attention was fixed on the cockpit. Within the canopy she could Richards head turn to regard her, and he waved. Smiling sultrily, Katie blew him a kiss in return, before rolling away.

Returning to the ground, Katie watched as Richard brought the spit around in a gentle bank before lining up with the grass lawn to the south of the manor itself. The plane's shadow flickered across the stream for an instant, then the forwards wheels touched the grass. The plane bobbed up a little before the wheels settled, the tail slowly lowering to greet the earth as well. The engine note changed as the plane slowed down to a crawl before the hanger. As she walked over Richard swung the Spitfire around on its right wheel, spinning it almost completely around to point back the way it had landed.

Walking forwards as the engine died, Katie watched as the canopy was pushed back. "Welcome back." She called as she got close enough to run a hand over the upper wing.

"Hey there." Richard called as he unbelted himself. Placing both hands on the rim to balance he lifted himself up and out of the pilots seat. It was a narrow space, when compared to the modern planes he'd trained on. As he did, Katie watched him intently, her eye's catching the way his arms flexed, even under the traditional flight jacket he wore.

"I've been meaning to ask." She said as she moved around the nose, her fingers brushing over the tri-bladed prop. "Why do you wear the old uniform when you fly this?"

Richard paused, one foot on the left wing, the other still in the cockpit, as he processed the answer. "Seemed the right thing to do, you know?" He finally answered as he finished getting out. "A way to honour the original owner of this beauty. And all the other pilots of them,"

"Well, it suits you…" Katie said quietly.

Richard looked at her curiously as he straightened from his jump down from the wing. The two of them had been getting closer over the last few weeks, no doubt about that. The others had seen it too. In fact, during the past week he'd had both Potters seek him out and warn him about breaking Katie Bell's heart. Truthfully Richard could not decide which of the two was scarier: Lily's constrained emotion or Harry's quiet intensity.

He'd admitted to himself a while back that he found the brunette witch very attractive. She wasn't as endowed as some of the other girls at the Manor – including his own cousin, though Richard tried hard not to think about Hermione like that! – but he personally thought that Katie had the perfect lines. Like the Spitfire, she was perfectly proportioned, with barely a trace of excess flesh. Unlike other girls her age though she didn't starve herself to achieve the look. In his opinion, it was better to have a little extra rather than not enough. Being able to count ribs at ten paces was not sexy, in his book. She also had a pretty face, with soft eyes set in gentle curves of lightly tanned, flawless skin.

More important than her looks however, was the person behind them. She was smart and witty, maybe not in the same field as Hermione but definitely not a dummy. And while most of the time she'd been depressed a little – quite understandable, given her recent loss – there had been several occasions when her real self, that of a lively, confident young woman, emerged.

Tossing his gloves and helmet up into the cockpit, Richard took a step forwards, before gently resting his hand on Katie's upper arm. Her head came up, hazel eyes meeting his caramel gaze. "Will you be okay?" He asked softly.

Katie's shoulders slumped as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "I… I don't know." She said hesitantly, a lone tear running down her cheek. "I mean… It's just… I can't believe their… actually…"

"Shhhh." Richard enfolded the crying young woman into his arms, guiding her head to rest on his shoulder. Katie's arms snaked round him as a fresh bout of crying took hold over her. As she cried, she noticed something. Within the circle of this young pilot's arms, she felt safe. She had felt it before, but not this intensely. With him, she could take a step away from her pain.

Richard continued to hold her, one gently stroking the smooth skin at the top of her back, the edges of her shoulder blades only just touchable. A small part of his mind noted how well they fit together, how they were almost the same height, but he pushed that train of thought aside. This moment was about her pain, not his wandering thoughts.

After a few minutes her sobs died off. Pulling back a bit she straightened, using one hand to wipe away her remaining tears. "Thanks." She half whispered, her tone tinged with embarrassment.

Richard smiled faintly. "Any time." He replied softly. Katie looked up at him firstly in shock, then a small smile began to twitch the corners of her lips.

Neither of them spoke it aloud then. But both knew that their relationship had changed, deepened, with heights yet uncharted to come.

* * *

Ginny sighed as she latched her school truck closed. _'Hermione was right. Packing before the morning of leaving IS less stressful.' _A wry smile formed on her lips. _'Surprise, surprise.'_

Flopping back onto her bed, Ginny allowed her mind to wander back over the summer just gone. It certainly was a lot different than any previous summer… and very different from what she'd expected at the end of last term. Back then, before the events with Malfoy and his curse on Harry, she'd planned on having Harry around the Burrow for most of the Summer. Dreams and hopes, which she now knew had been planted and fuelled by her mother's desires, of catching his eye had been running wild in her mind.

Then the events of the last week of term had utterly crushed her, smashed those dreams and ruined her hopes. She'd started to spiral into a depression… one that she doubted she had the strength of will to climb out off if she had fallen.

Then the discovery of the remnant of Tom in her mind… that had shaken her, badly. But worse had been the discovery of her mother's manipulations. Ginny doubted she would ever trust her mother again now.

But there had been some happiness over the summer. The visits to Potter Manor to train after the Death Eater attack had been hard at first, but over time she'd manage to overcome her envy at the other witches. Especially Hermione. Another pang of guilt swept through the young redhead at how she had treated the older girl… no, young woman. She had been using her for her own ends, manipulating her... just like Tom Riddle had used and manipulated _her_.

A light knock on her door drew Ginny's thoughts out of those painful memories. "Ginny, can I have a word?"

"Sure dad." She replied, sitting up as she did.

Arthur Weasley stepped in, pushing the door closed as he did. As he turned back to her, Ginny was struck at just how _old_ her father looked at that moment. The issues with Ron and Molly, the 'discussion' at Potter Manor over his new job, the war in general... it was all taking it's toll on him. There was more than a hint of grey creeping into his hair, the lines on his face deepened. Even the way his moved spoke of weariness. As he settled down next to her Arthur's eyes wandered around her room. Ginny felt a blush creep up her skin: the bare areas where she'd used to have her 'Boy-Who-Lived' posters and the like were painfully obvious. Having seen for herself Harry's true nature – without the overlay of her artificial affections – she had realised just how false that image was of Harry, and how it demeaned him and his family.

A small smile broke onto Arthur's face when his eyes landed on Ginny's school truck. "All packed for the morning then?"

"Yes daddy. I guess spending half the summer with Hermione and the others has rubbed off a bit." There had been a tiny pause before she said the others girl's man, but Arthur decided not to call her on it. The look on his daughters face told she too had noticed, and was happy with herself for it.

"Good. At least now we only have to get Ronald packed." A silence fell between them as they thought about the youngest Weasley male. After a few moments, Arthur took a deep breath. "Ginny… I need you to do something for me, while you're at Hogwarts."

Ginny looked at him worriedly. This sounded bad.

Arthur looked her straight in the eye. "I need you to keep an eye on your brother." Seeing the confusion on her eyes, he explained. "You know, just as well as I, that there's something very wrong with Ronald right now. But for the life of me I can't put my figure on just it is."

Ginny nodded in response. She too could not quite work out just what was wrong with her brother. He seemed to regress to a child-like mentality earlier in the summer, but as of late he seemed to have regained his mental maturity. But he'd also changed, and not for the better. There was a coldness to him now, an emotionless way that was just not Ron. His eyes… seemed dead whenever she looked into them. She refocused her attention on her father.

"I can't shake the feeling that there's something more going on in him, and that we've not seen everything just yet. I need you to watch him, track his changes… and alert McGonagall if things start to get out of hand."

Ginny nodded firmly now. "I will dad. There's something very wrong with him. Sometimes…" She shivered involuntary. "…When he looks at me, I feel that it's his body, but something else is looking through his eyes."

In the hall outside, hidden the shadows, the figure of Ronald Weasley stood silently, listening carefully to their every word.

* * *

"You all right Harry?"

Harry gingerly pushed with his arms, lifting his head from Susan's shoulder to look down at her. "Just… let me… get my… breath back." He gasped out.

"Susan, you're supposed to wait until after marriage before you kill him!" Daphne mock scolded the redhead from the side.

"Mmmm…but what a way to go." Fleur drawled sultrily. "Squeezed to death between a sexy woman's thighs at ze height of passion."

Soft laughter filled the bedroom as Harry drew himself out of and off Susan, who continued to lay on his bed, a blush filling her cheeks. She did allow her left leg to drop down, allowing him to roll off her onto his side. Across from him, Hermione and Daphne sat cuddled into each other, while towards the foot of the bed Tracy sat up on her side, watching. Like the others, her own preferences had emerged as they had spent time together. Tracy was more of a watcher, sitting back slightly and enjoying the spectacle. She participated eagerly when approached or it was just her and Harry, but in group sessions like now, she liked to watch.

As he settled onto his side, Harry felt a delicate arm snake round his waist as full breasts pressed against his shoulder blades. "I'm going to miss 'his…" Fleur half murmured as she muzzled his neck. "So many months… alone in bed…" There was longing in her tone.

"We know Fleur." Daphne said softly. "These last few weeks have been… Harry?" She paused seeing Harry's face twitch.

"Yes?" Harry answered innocently. At least, he tried to.

"Harry, you know we can read you like a book now." Hermione gently scolded, though her tone was filled with affection. "What are you up to? Don't make us force you to tell us..." Fleur ran her tongue up the side of Harry's neck in time with Hermione's words, prompting a shiver from the young man.

"Okay, okay. Well, remember I talked with Professor McGonagall the other day, about my classes?" At their nods he pushed on. "Well, I'll be taking the catch up Runes OWL in addition to my other classes..." he had to pause at the looks of pleased surprise on the girls faces. "Hey, after seeing how they're used all around us, I really ought to know at least the basics. Anyway, we got talking about tutors, not just for Runes but in general. There's still a lot of things I need to know. Hogwarts, in earlier days, used to have classes for things like finance, politics and the like. Well…" Now a smile began to form on his face. "…Between us we agreed that I would need a tutor in business finances, to properly manage the Potter and Black estates. And our first choice for tutor is you, Miss Delacour. The offer comes with full Hogwarts board, including a room in our married quarter's suite…"

Harry couldn't finish his sentence as he was suddenly pulled backwards. The warmth of Fleur's hold vanished just before he was rolled onto his back. A pair of lips almost crashed onto his before any sound could escape him. From the soft fullness he recognised them as Fleurs.

A dry chuckle escaped Daphne's throat as she watched Fleur aggressively kiss Harry passionately. "I think we can take that as her acceptance of the role."

"So our routine's going to remain?" Tracy asked, her eyes fixed on the coupling pair as Fleur swung a leg over Harry. One of her hands had slipped between her legs, while the other hefted her breast.

"Oh, yes. Certainly if I have any say in it." Hermione answered Tracy, her breathing quickening as Fleur gave a small gasp, one that only she made, and only when Harry was sheathed within her.

Susan grinned mischievously. "And as the future Lady Potter, your word carries a lot of weight."

Hermione playfully swatted Susan's still upraised knee. "We're all equal Susan. You know that."

"Oh I do." Susan replied, rolling over to snuggle against the other two, her hand reaching out to burrow into Hermione's hair. Exerting a gentle pressure, she pulled Hermione's head down. "And as such, I need some loving too."

Daphne smiled as she watched her two best friends kiss each other passionately. Hogwarts, the War, everything outside this room could wait till the dawn.

* * *

**A/N:** My plan is next chapter will deal with the trip to Hogwarts and the welcome feast. I hope to be able to complete it in time for Christmas... wish me luck.


	43. Back To School Again

**A/N: **Well, the world didn't end on Friday (seriously, did anyone honestly expected it too?) But more importantly, we all know what holiday is coming up... so here's the next chapter of 'Cure', as an early present. I had hopped to have this done for yesterday, but it wasn't quite there. Still, we're before Christmas...

Sharp-eyed readers may note I paraphrase some of HBP for the 'lunch' with Slughorn. No copy-right infringement is intended here, and things don't go the same way towards the end at all...

**A/N2:** *sigh* Shows I rushed to get this chapter out in time for all of you. And that I'm reliant on Word's Spell checker... Put 'Trunk' in where it should have been all along... plus one or two other corrections...

* * *

**Curse's Cure 43 - Back To School Again**

* * *

The dawn of September the first was crisp and clear. Once they had awoken and dressed themselves, the family gathered for a last breakfast together. It had become almost a tradition that the whole extended family – the Potters, Greengrasses, Bones, Grangers, Blacks and Tonks, along with Remus – would sit and eat breakfast together each day. It had started with their morning planning sessions, which had grown to include breakfast, as Daniel was adamant on maintaining the kids training. He'd given them one last early morning run before they ate, but had gone easy on them; today was going to be a long, if only somewhat busy, day.

Returning upstairs afterwards, Harry mused to himself as he packed the last few items away, making sure to leave his best uniform and robes till last. This was the first time that he would be going back to Hogwarts without feeling it as a release. He'd said Hogwarts was his home after his first year. Now... that was no longer the case. Here, Potter Manor, was his home now. And already he was reluctant to leave.

Shaking his head firmly, Harry closed the trunk lid. It was foolish to think that he could hide out the war here, no matter how tempting or desirable it was. In a sense he'd felt almost isolated, safe from Voldemort, enshrined here. But the attacks on his friends had made a mockery of that illusion. Voldemort would never stop hunting him. It was only a matter of time before he discovered where the Manor was. Then he would fling his full fury on Harry's home... and Harry had no wish to see the grounds become a battleground. No, better to return to school as expected.

Besides, there was another factor that weighed heavily on his return to Hogwarts. While Harry was still wary of Public Opinion, given his past relationship with that entity, he had been made aware of the possible repercussions of his actions. As much as he disliked the titles placed on him, they existed, and thus his actions affected people's thoughts. If the Boy-Who-Lived – or as the Prophet had started calling him The-Chosen-One – did not return to Hogwarts in the fall then the wizarding public would start to question, worry and panic. Other parents would pull their own children from the school, and others would follow, starting a domino effect that would cripple Magical Britain for years, if not decades. Worse, the children would be much more vulnerable to the Death Eaters predations. In this case, it really was 'for the Greater Good' that Harry return to Hogwarts.

To be honest with himself Harry wasn't entirely opposed to returning. While it would put him far too close for comfort with certain individuals – Draco, Snape and Dumbledore came to mind right away – and would severely cut into the time he could spend with his loves, he was keenly aware of his need to improve his education. While they had been getting some tuition from McGonagall over the summer, and his mum, Remus, Andromeda and even Narcissa had chipped in, they really needed qualified professors to advance their understanding of subjects. By necessity, all their summer tuition had been practical; they had had very little theory to go with it... a fact that he could tell was starting to irritate Hermione a little.

He also had an extra spur to improve his performance. While she had never aired it, Lily did seem... disappointed, at his barely average marks in most subjects, though she was proud of his Defence marks. Harry sighed as he walked down the stairs to the 'Family' floor, levitating his trunk ahead of him as he did. He'd taken 'the easy route' at Ron's urgings... and now that he thought about it, the Dursley's conditioning might also have had an effect. He hadn't tried to challenge himself, intent only on disappearing into the crowd. Which for him was impossible.

Well, this year things would change. He'd done well enough to continue most subjects, at least those he wanted to continue. He knew that if he had to spend another class with Snape, things were liable to get nasty very quickly indeed.

Stepping down into the family living room, he paused to look around, memories of the last month cascading through his mind. It hadn't all been training and lessons. There had been lots of laughter and joy here. The disparate group had bonded together, each viewpoint of the world accepted and incorporated. Although there had been no ceremonies, Harry already felt that they were a family in every regard. Neville was truly a brother to him now, and a far better friend than Ronald ever was.

He also had fresh hope for the future. Hermione had brought out the third Star Wars movie the other night, and while he knew intellectually that it was only a movie, a story, it gave Harry the sense that yes, evil could be defeated.

Guiding his trunk to rest beside the sofa, Harry looked around once more before descending the second set of stairs down to the lower family floor. This floor was one of the few areas of the manor were space expansion charms had been used heavily. Normally, each of the twelve rooms on this floor would be about the size of a large cupboard or walk-in wardrobe. But with magic, each was only a little smaller than the secondary rooms on the fourth floor, even though the total floor area was more than twice that the floor would be.

Turning away from the other rooms, Harry stepped along a short corridor to an outside door. In some respects, Potter Manor was just like any other magical structure. The grounds included a small owlery, which was in the summit of a tower that sat astride the low rock barrier between the southern lawns and the lake. A set of steps cut into the rock led up from the outside path that circled the family wing, but also a raised walkway projected from the lower family floor, direct to the door of the tower. The heat of the sun was partially blocked by Clematis that had grown over a wooden pergola that had been added to the stone walkway.

Inside the tower, stairs rose up, hugging the outside wall of the tower. Narrow windows allowed glimpses of the landscape. Stepping onto the top floor, Harry took a moment to look around. The Owlery composed the entire peak of the tower. The windows were large enough even for the largest of owls to enter or leave with room to spare. Unlike Hogwarts, were the perches were in rings around the outside of the space, here the perches forced a dome shape over the centre of the floor. Beneath them was a hole that led down to unknown depths, a shaft that filled the central portion of the tower. From up here, Harry could see for miles, looking out in all directions, as he was above the roof of the Manor itself, and on the same level as the Greengrasses uppermost floor. Only the ruined tower that sat on the point across the lake was able to reach higher.

Turning his attention inward, Harry smiled as his eyes located his owl right away. There was only a small family of Barn Owls living here when they had arrived, so Hegwig almost had the Owlery to herself. And as benefiting the personal owl of the Lord Potter, she had claimed the most prestigious perch for herself; the very top one, right in the middle and higher that the rest.

"Hey girl." He called softly, prompting two golden eyes to snap to him. Almost instantly Hegwig launched herself from her perch before spiralling down. Harry raised his arm, and Hegwig swooped in to land gracefully and gently on it. She crooned as he stroked her chest feathers.

"Sorry I've been ignoring you this summer..." He felt bad that he'd neglected his owl, normally his only companion during the summer. He was stopped from going on by a look from the snowy owl… one that he knew was her way of saying 'don't worry about it.'

"Ready to return to Hogwarts?" he asked instead cheerfully. Hegwig looked at him for a moment before her gaze moved to his right. She barked once before turning her head away.

Looking right, Harry frowned for a moment, as there was only the trapdoor that led down, her cage, plus a couple of small boxes over there. Then he realised; the cage. He knew she had a... passionate dislike for the cage. Hegwig tolerated being cooped up in it at the Dursley's, but the rest of the time she much preferred to be free of its confines.

Looking between the two, Harry thought for a moment. The cage was an awkward thing to store, and he only really used it at the Dursley's and for the trip to and from Hogwarts... something which she could do herself. Concern for her safety tried to rise up, but Harry trusted his smart owl to be able to keep herself safe.

"Say Hegwig, why don't you meet us there?" Amber eyes snapped round to him, almost perfectly round. "Take your time, enjoy the flight... and we leave the cage here."

Judging by the way Hegwig warbled before jumping to his shoulder to nibble on his ear, Hegwig liked that idea. Stroking her back softly, Harry walked to one of the large windows. "Now be careful, all right?" He told her as the owl hopped down onto the ledge.

Hegwig looked back at him with narrowed eyes, barked once as if to say 'I know!' before she took flight. Harry stood watching her elegant form disappear into the clear blue sky before heading back down.

His mum was waiting for him on the walkway. "You sent Hedwig on ahead?" She asked softly, a small smile gracing her lips.

Harry nodded. "Much better for her than cooped up in that cage. And one less thing for us to worry about."

"True." Lily nodded before looping an arm around his shoulders. "Come on. The others are almost ready."

* * *

It was ten past ten before they parked up outside Kings Cross. Even on a Sunday, London's streets were still thick with traffic. Working together the eight trunks lashed down onto the roof rack were quickly brought down and loaded between four trolleys. While Fleur was going as a student, she would be travelling with the teens. Tonks would also be on the train, but as a roaming Auror presence. Remus and Lily would apparate up to the castle on their own, and meet the children at Hogsmeade station and the Great Hall, respectively. No one really expected an incident on the train, but caution had been ingrained into them all by Captain Granger.

Out of respect for the non-magicals in their group, the goodbyes were mostly done on the muggle side of the barrier. Eleanor Greengrass clung to both her daughters, tears welling from all three of them. Ever since the attack on their old home the remaining Greengrasses had rarely been far away from each other, haunted by the memory of their parting from Erickson Greengrass.

Likewise, Emma and Nathan held Hermione close between them. Neither of them had truly been prepared for the long months of separation from their only child the first time they sent her through the barrier. Even now, it still hurt. But at least they knew, this time, she had a guardian angel watching over her who would do anything to keep her safe.

That person was being held in a loose hug by his mother. After a few moments Lily released him and stepped back enough to look in his eyes. "Remember don't go looking for trouble..."

Harry grinned. "I never do mum. Trouble finds me all by itself!"

Lily smiled at the long-running joke. "Regardless, I don't want to hear of you running off to confront Malfoy. His time will come."

Harry nodded slowly. "Okay mum. But if he starts something, or tries anything, I will finish it."

"I don't expect anything else." Turning to one side, she crouched a little to be on the same level as the waif-like blond who stood quietly to one side. "Harry and the others will be you the whole trip, and I'll be waiting in the Great Hall for you. Okay Luna?"

Luna nodded nervously. From the large wicker cat carrier she held to her chest came a crooning sound, which appeared to sooth her. Given what he was, Gobbler had to travel in an enclosed basket. They had talked about having Lily take the little dragon to Hogwarts instead, but it had become clear that while she was better, Luna needed the presence of the little dragon to calm her. In the end, the family had purchased the largest basket they could find that Luna could carry herself.

Of course, once they had it Lily, Fleur and Hermione had charmed the hell out of it, with multiple fire proofing charms and the like. It would not do for the little dragon to simply burn his way out and cause a panic.

The impact his arrival would make at Hogwarts would be big enough as it was.

Off to one side Tonks stood waiting. Unofficially, her job today was to be an Auror presence on the Hogwarts Express, just in case Death Eaters tried to hijack it or kidnap students. Of course, given the inept Ministry, she was the _only_ Auror who would be able to do anything. Neither she nor Amelia expected the only 'official' Auror, Dawlish, to do anything other than laze the trip away in the back of the Prefects carriage. Minister Scrimgeour had not authorised any additional Aurors, stating that 'The Express is a low risk target. There are far more important places for our highly skilled Aurors to watch over'.

Hence why she'd ride along with the students. It was still covered in her role as bodyguard to Harry. The fact she'd be wearing her Auror robes while patrolling the Express was purely coincidental.

"Tonks?" She turned her head to regard Remus. The last Marauder still looked care-worn, but thanks to Sirius' bequest and Harry, he looked a hell of a lot better than he had before. "Can I have a word?"

Nodding in reply, Tonks looked about for a moment before gesturing to the side of the brick pillar that the entryway to the magical platform was built into. From there she could maintain an eye on Harry's group, but they could also speak privately. As they stepped over Tonks tried to slow her racing heart. Was this about what she thought it was?

Remus faced her once more. Looking into his eyes, Tonks training allowed her to see nervousness in them. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said, you know... earlier this month." At her nod of understanding, Remus pressed on. "I still think you can do much better than me Tonks, and that you're crazy in trying to get involved with a... well, someone like me..."

Tonks felt her heart start to plummet.

"...But Merlin help me, I want to try." He looked at her earnestly. "I really do like you Tonks, but I'm... afraid, of my own self. I don't want to see you get hurt because of something I did, even if I'm not in my right mind. The book has helped, but... I fear I still have a long way to go."

Tonks was on the verge of hyperventilating. "You... you serious?"

The reply was instantaneous. "No, I'm Moony. Padfoot's Seri..." He trailed, a pained look crossing his face for a moment. Banishing it, he looked up at her again. "Sorry. Yes, I am serious about this."

Smiling happily, Tonks looped her arms around his neck to drag him down to kiss. He was clearly shocked at first, but then as he began to put some effort in, Tonks found herself slumping against him in a swoon. While clearly inexperienced, Remus clearly had gobs of natural talent.

Once they parted for breath, Tonks drew in a shaky breath before beaming at the taller man. "You're so getting lucky soon."

Remus however backed off a little. "Not so fast Tonks... Yes, I said that book helped. But... I still don't feel in control of the wolf. I don't know what it'll happen if we, you know..." He actually blushed a little.

Tonks grinned. "I'm not afraid of the Big Bad Wolf."

"You should be." Remus' reply had no trance of banter in it.

Tonks frowned in reply for a moment, before smiling and patting him on the arm. "I have faith in you Remus." She said before stepping back towards the teens.

After being released from Emma's hug, Harry stepped behind the trolley bearing his trunk. Given their numbers, they had doubled up on the trolleys, so instead of using seven – one for each Hogwarts student – they had four. Harry's trunk shared space with Katie's, while Daphne had her sisters with her own. Luna's trunk rested with Susan's. Only Hermione had a trolley to herself; after trying to get what seemed like half the Potter Library into her trunk, Lily had pulled another, smaller one out of a storeroom for her to fill with books. Of course, Hermione had used the smaller one for her clothing, and her larger original one for the books.

Seeing first Katie then Tonks pass through the portal, Harry pushed on the trolley, straining a little to get it lined up correctly. He was surprised to find it wasn't as hard as he'd expected: clearly the training from Captain Granger was paying off.

"Harry..." the man in question called out before he could start to move forwards. Harry looked back. "Remember lad. Never start a fight..."

"...But always finish it." Harry answered with a grin. The corner of Daniel's mouth twitched upwards in reply.

Turning back to face the pillar, Harry took a moment to take a deep breath. Although he 'knew' he would be passing through the portal, it still _looked_ like a very solid brick column. And he remembered the debacle before his second year, when Dobby had sealed the portal… Throw in everything that he knew would be waiting for him and his girls on the other side… "Lets' do this…" he muttered before pushing forwards.

The adults not going on the Express watched one by one as each student passed through the seemingly solid brickwork. As Susan slipped through Emma shivered from within her husband's encircling grasp. "I'm never going to get used to seeing that…"

Amelia chuckled dryly. "It's not much better doing it one's self." Glancing at one of the clocks hung around the station she sighed. "I need to get into the Ministry. I'll see you all later."

As the older woman moved away Daniel shook off the effects of seeing the young ones, including his niece, walk straight through a seemingly solid wall. Stepping forwards, he held out one hand over the spot, before pressing down gently. He felt the rough brickwork that he expected.

Lily smiled at his actions. Her father had done the same thing when she first came home from Hogwarts. "It's magic Daniel. Magic."

* * *

Across the country, deep in rural Berkshire, a grand old manor house stood proud atop a small hill. All the grounds around it belonged to the estate, keeping the closest road well back, too far for prying eyes. For the local people of Little Haglington however it was a blessing that Riddle Manor was set so far from the road, and well outside the village. The Manor was an eyesore, derelict for nearly fifty years. The once grand building was decaying, faster than most structures of its age, and the grounds were an overgrown mess. No one went near the place, except for a few local lads every now and again until a few years ago, when they all outgrew such antics.

The Manor was considered haunted too, and cursed. Since the early part of the century bad luck and strange happens occurred in relation to the place. In the twenties the Lord's first born son had run away with a 'common' woman, who, according to rumour, was about as bright as she had been pretty… neither of which had been great. He'd later returned a few months later, without her, but the rumour and scandal haunted the Riddle family. Then in the early forties, the entire Riddle family was found dead in the dining hall, not a mark on each one but all very dead. The staff that had been in the house at the time were also found dead, scattered throughout the servants areas, as if they had simply dropped dead in the midst of their duties. The only staff members left had been the maid of the sole daughter in the family, who'd been visiting her sick mother in the village… and the ground-keeper. Frank Bryce had instantly become the prime suspect, but nothing could be stuck. 'Everyone' knew he did it, though motive and method were unclear. The villages would point to his wounded return from Europe, whispering how 'war changes men'. Frank had soldiered on however, tending to the estate as much as he was able even as it decayed around him, as no-one came forward to claim it. With the war raging in Europe, the issue of the Riddle Estate and its distribution fell through the cracks.

But lately things had turned even darker, and more rumours were spreading. Frank, by then a pensioner, had disappeared the summer before last. A chill seemed to emanate from the estate, sending shivers up the spines of anyone who even approached. Those that did told how the manor house appeared to be decaying even faster, the very air around the grounds chilled and dark. Everyone was unsettled, a sense of foreboding hovering over the whole village.

And then, only last month, men and trucks had moved in, directing all to keep away from the estate firmly. Only a few had actually talked to them, but the appearances of those had been passed around rapidly. Hard men, with cold, expressionless faces and dark looks. Rumours and gossip escalated, as the locals tried to work out what could possibly be happening on the old estate. Some claimed that the men were workers, builders brought in to finally refurbish – or more likely, demolish and replace – the ancient manor. They backed this idea up with the event of two weeks ago, when a pair of large transporter trucks had brought the village to a standstill as they forced their way through the village centre, the only route which they and their cargo of two mobile trended cranes could use. Others spun tales of a government secret force being assembled. Some even suggested a secret private army.

Despite himself, Lance-Corporal Carter felt a small smile worm onto his face as a chuckle tried to escape. The smile was all he would allow himself to do. Making sound _now_ would be very bad for his life expectance… and more importantly, his mission's chances of success.

The Riddle estate was overlooked on one side by a larger forested hill, a thick at the bottom acting as a boundary between the two. Crawling slowly through the undergrowth, Carter eased between the trees towards a small hillock that gave an excellent vantage point over the entire estate.

Problem was, there were two men lazily patrolling around the edge of the estate, and they were barely ten feet from his location. Both wore rough clothing, some dyed grey, and with slung AK's over their shoulders. Although the two talked between themselves – it was one of the eastern European languages, one which unfortunately Carter was not versed in – any strange noise would draw their attention… and the mission would be a bust.

Within a few minutes however the two moved on. Carter took note of their route before pushing onwards, reaching the hillock, on which a thick clump of Ash grew. The ground cover was ideal for his purpose, and with barely a sound he shed his pack and began to set up camp.

In only a few minutes the experienced SAS trooper had his gear set up, checked and concealed. From this OP he could watch the estate… which to normal sight looked like a derelict old manor house. But with the 'enhanced' sights…

Riddle Manor was now a fortress.

With practiced ease he began to make notes with one hand, keeping his eyes on the sights… and his ears open for any sound of his detection.

With the Army force almost ready, it had been decided to start hunting the Death Eaters and in particular their Magi-SS allies. While the others were drilling and preparing response teams, Carter had been taken aside and given a mission more suited to his own skills. The two Tiger tanks had been tracked moving across the country, their disguise holding up against all but 'enhanced' cameras. Finally the pair had been followed to here, an ancient manor in the middle of rural England. Working on the assumption that if the tanks were here, the bulk of the Magi-SS forces would be too, Carter had been dispatched to recon and evaluate the place, hopefully to work up a plan of attack, but mainly to gather Intel. They'd waited till today, September the first, for him to infiltrate the grounds, hoping that the Magical World would be focusing all its attention on Kings Cross. Carter had arrived the previous night, and had spent it in the local pub, not drinking but working the rumour mill, hoping to gain some extra Intel.

Wincing he took a moment to rub his eyes for a moment, taking the opportunity to roll his wrist as he did. SOP for ops like this were for a two man team, but no other SAS members had magical relations. The only one who could possibly fill the role had been Captain Granger himself… and he was needed elsewhere. No, it was down to Carter himself.

It was a dare, Carter realised, and another small smile appeared on his face for a moment.

The motto for the 22nd Regiment was well known, and he had no intention of losing this one.

* * *

It didn't take long on the other side of the platform for the teens to get organised. Hermione frowned for a moment when Harry used his wand to lift the trunks onto the carriage, but smiled when he used one hand to pull her 'book' trunk while hauling his own in the other. Reaching the last two compartments of the last carriage, the teens looked at each other for a moment. Each compartment could only hold eight at best: they numbered ten, and were expecting at least another two to join them. Before anyone could volunteer to separate, Fleur took matters into her own hands. Stepping into the last compartment, she turned to the dividing wall as her wand appeared in her hand. With a few softly muttered French words and some lazy flicks, she opened up the wall, opening a way through to the other compartment. Then the doors moved towards each other, becoming a paired sliding door with the windows bracketing them. The seats that had been against the dividing wall shifted, most moving to be flush to the outer wall facing the new double door, while the rest seeming vanished, to reappear on the inner walls were the old internal windows and doors had been. The padding of the seats appeared to get plumped up as well, and Harry was sure she must have used an expansion charm as well in there, as the now double compartment seemed deeper than before.

"Now we have all the room we need." Fleur said simply as she tucked her wand away. Beaming, Harry laid the trunks he was holding down to step forward and reward her with a dip and kiss. Fleur, naturally, deepened the kiss, prolonging it.

"Bit early for that, you two." Katie groused good naturedly. Harry was flushed slightly as he came up for air, but Fleur just winked at the others.

Tonks stood just outside, smiling to herself as the rest of the teens filed in. Looking along the passageway, she spotted Neville lending a hand for Hannah as she stepped up onto the carriage. When he looked towards her she waved before pointing towards the compartment. Nodding, the Longbottom scion and his intended quickly joined the Potter party.

"Nice work here Harry. Who do we have to thank for this?" He asked when the pair of them stepped into the expanded compartment.

"Fleur." Was Harry's reply before he turned to look at Hermione. "Anything we need for the prefects meeting?"

"We'll be fine with just our robes on top." She replied, already lifting the lid of her trunk. "And, of course, the badge."

Nodding, Harry fished the metal shield displaying the Gryffindor emblem superposed with a bold 'P' out of his pocket, before opening his own trunk. In only a few minutes the pair were robed, their badges clearly displayed. Noting that they had a bit of time the two sat together, Hermione going over the Prefects handbook once more for Harry. Not that he really needed to do so again… they were simply killing time. Neither said anything when Luna snuggled into Harry's free side, her little dragon Gobbler now free of his travel basket and in her arms. The Terrible Terror just crooned, his large eyes closed in relaxation.

Outside on the platform the bulk of the returning students bustled about, greeting their friends and swapping summer tales while trying to get on the train. As the clock hands moved closer to eleven the activity on the platform become more frantic, until it died away just before the hour, with only parents standing there. Harry noted that there were a much larger number of parents at the station than in years previous. A sign of the troubled times.

A flash of red drew his attention, and Harry looked to see the Weasleys rushing onto the platform. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Two minutes to Eleven. "Even with just the two of them, they're still barely in time."

"From her expression, Ginny seems to think it's all Ron's fault." Hermione commented as they watched the four Weasleys reach the train.

"Would you really expect her to think anything else?" Harry asked rhetorically. Hermione had no answer for that.

The whistle blew just as Ron was hauling his lanky frame onto the train, and everyone in the compartment felt the first tug on the couplings. From outside the parents could see the engine move a little, before the wheels spun for a half-moment. Then they bit, and slowly the express began to move as a whole. Despite the fear and tension in the air, each one of them felt a sense of nostalgia as they watched, memories of their own trips to Hogwarts replaying in their minds.

On board, Hermione stood up. "Come on Harry. Time for us to go."

Harry nodded, but didn't stand right away. Instead he turned to Luna. "Are you going to be alright?" He asked softly. Although they had no blood relation, and he'd only known of her for a little under a year, Harry felt very protective of Luna. They had formed a bond between them that nearly rivaled the bond he felt at times with those witches he loved intimately, or the bond he had with his mother. There was no romantic feeling between them: Harry truly felt that Luna was his little sister in spirit if not in blood. After she'd gotten over the death of her father, Luna had blossomed into a bright, happy young woman, full of energy and cheer. Each one of them had found themselves at ease with her, even Hermione, whose own logic driven nature tended to clash with Luna's faith based one. But never did either of them go away from a discussion even thinking the other was stupid or insane. The revelation that Luna's 'Crumple-Horned Snorknak' was actually real – just a miniature type of dragon unseen in the British Isles for many years – had radically altered Hermione's perception of her.

However, in the last few days of August Luna had started to withdraw again, some of her mannerisms from the previous year returning. Both Harry and Lily had sat down with her and reassured her that this year, no one would be bullying her… or at least, would get away with it.

Harry had been keen on the idea of marching into the Ravenclaw Common Room and issuing a firm warning. In the end they had managed to talk him down to just having her sit with him at the Welcome Feast… and having the Potter Crest on her robes. Significantly, on her right arm, below the shoulder, which to those who knew meant that she was a Vassal to House Potter. And any attack against a Vassal was an attack against the higher House.

And those who actually studied history soon learned that the Potters had never been one's to hold back when their family, even extended family, was threatened.

Luna smiled lightly, cuddling her familiar a little tighter. Gobbler just crooned in response. "I'll be fine Harry. Go threaten Malfoy like you want too."

"Now Harry…" Hermione said as he stood, a broad smile on his face. "…as much as it would be satisfying to teach that slimy, no-good, foul, evil…" her words descended into half muttered mumblings for a few moments, prompting knowing smiles from the others. "…little toe-rag a lesson, you _are_ a Prefect now Harry. He do have to set an example for the other students."

"Sure I will." Harry answered innocently. "I'll make an example out of Malfoy too. 'This is what you get for being a bigoted Junior Death Muncher. And a raping bastard.' Should be simple enough that even Crabbe and Goyle can understand."

Hermione sighed, but they could all see the smile on her face as she led Harry away.

As they walked the length of the train, the pair greeted those other students they knew at least a little, exchanging pleasantries with each one. Seamus, who seemed to be attempting to grow a beard. Padma Patil, who was stood off to one side from where her sister Parvati was speaking a mile a minute with Lavender, who was talking back just as fast. The Creevy's who both almost hyperventilated when they saw Harry. It was as Hermione was speaking with a couple of Ravenclaws – they were already wearing their uniforms – that Harry found his eyes lingering on her… and pondering the simple fact that the almost floor-length black robes completely covered her. He wasn't sure, but he guessed that the two other witches were from wizarding homes. Would explain why they were already in uniform.

His thoughts then wandered, as he tried to picture what their expressions would be like had they seen what Hermione was wearing under those robes. Tight, hip hugging jeans and a thin, pale T-shirt that when she move _just_ right exposed a thin slice of her toned stomach. It was conservative compared to what had been worn on the other side of the barrier; bare shoulders and shorts that barely reached mid-thigh seemed closer to the standard for young women. He knew that had the other boys seen her dressed that way tongues would have been hanging out: Hermione had truly blossomed into a very beautiful young woman. She'd already been complemented several times by other witches, which had prompted a blush from her every time.

As they moved off, Harry couldn't help his imagination wandering, spurred by the thought that Hermione could have been wearing _anything_ under that robe, and nobody would know. Lacy underwear, or maybe that golden bikini outfit that Princess Leia had worn in that last Star Wars movie for a bit. Or even nothing at all. His mind started conjuring images of her flipping up the hem of her robes just as she sat on his lap in the Great Hall, giving him a brief glimpse of her bare backside before she was seated. No else around noticed, even when one of her hands reached down to unzip his pants as she shifted on top of him…

It was as they were in the connection to the Prefect's carriage, safely away from any others, that he allowed his hand to land were her arse was. It wasn't a hard smack or grope, but a loving caress that had the brunette witch pausing to moan throatily.

"Later Harry…" She whispered.

Harry took the opportunity for her tilting her head to one side to lean forward and gently kiss her neck, just under her ear… which was one of her most sensitive spots. "Looking forward to it." He replied softly, letting his breath roll over her skin. Hermione shuddered once more before she opened the door. Harry followed with a broad smile…

…Which faded away when he saw who was sat within the compartment. It was an open-plan space spanning the width of the carriage. Bench seating ran along the side walls, with a pair of seats facing the rear.

And sat in the left one was none other than Cho Chang.

The pretty Chinese witch – and Harry's first crush – looked up as the two entered. He eyes widened at first, then they narrowed, her lips thinning slightly. Harry could almost see her thoughts. _'I knew it.'_

Harry however refused to be embarrassed. Cho had tried to make him chose between her and his best friend… a choice that for him was all too easy. And in the long run, it had turned out far better than he had ever dreamed. Sitting down next to Hermione, he returned Cho's look steadily as they all waited for the other Prefects to arrive.

Quickly the others began to filter in. Harry nodded in reply to the surprised greetings from the others, but didn't offer much explanation for why he was there instead of Ron. While the others mostly sat with their House group, Hannah came over and sat on Hermione's free side, the two talking softly for a moment before the door opened once more. Harry steeled himself: there were only two missing…

Sure enough, Malfoy strutted in, Parkinson on his arm like she was the queen to his king. He looked about the compartment like he thought it belonged to him… and then his eyes landed on Harry. A sneer creased his face. "Potter! What do you think you're doing here? This compartment is for Prefects only, although…" His eyes shifted to Hermione. "…The standards for admittance to such an noble body have dropped as of late."

Hermione smiled mockingly at the Ferret. "Why Malfoy, I didn't know you knew such big words. Been studying hard over the summer? Or are you just quoting your father?"

Draco scowled. "Be quiet Mudblood! No one hear desires to hear you pollute the very air with your know-it-all attitude!" As he turned back to Harry, both Gryffindor's noted how most of the other Prefects looked darkly at the ponce; the Seventh Year Slytherin male Prefect even face-palmed. But not one spoke out against the Ponce…

"You know you could lose your badge if the Professors heard you using that term Malfoy." Hannah spoke up. Her face flushed as every eye turned to her, but she refused to back down.

Malfoy actually chuckled. "Oh I'm safe little Huffleslut. We all know the Headmaster doesn't care about anything these days. How can he, when's he's so senile a stuffed Iguana could outwit him?" The laughter died as he looked at Hannah darkly. "You had better watch your mouth Abbot. Bad enough you waste it on the squib Longbottom, but if you continue to insult a great Noble House like the Malfoys… well, things can happen." It was all too clear what he was referring to.

Harry decided it was time to go on the offensive. He could see that Malfoy's threats had touched something deep within the other Prefects, and they were backing down, letting him get away with his poison and vile again. And he decided to launch the first strike against one of Draco's main weaknesses; his pride. "Funny you say that Malfoy. I never got the Wizengamont memo that the Malfoys had even been elevated to the standing of a _minor_ Noble House." He pretended to buff his nails on his robes as all eyes turned back to him. "And as the Potters sit on the board that decides if a family should be elevated in the first place… well, something's fishy here."

He looked up to see that Malfoy was red faced, but silent. They both knew that he'd just called Draco's bluff… and that it was a bluff. He pressed on. "Tell me Malfoy, just what _were _your family doing say… oh, two hundred years ago? Weren't they still herding sheep and living in one room wooden shacks in the French Alps? If I recall my tutoring right, other families here, such as the Abbots…" He waved a hand towards Hannah "Were already wealthy land holders, with a string of high ranked clergymen in their number. Or what about the Stewarts?" He nodded towards the Ravenclaw seventh year sat across the compartment. "I heard they still control the last family run bank in Commonwealth territory. A turnover of several million galleons a year, right?"

The Seventh year looked stunned, but nodded slowly reply.

Harry's eyes locked onto Malfoy's now. "And then we have the Potters and Blacks…" Harry now raised his left hand up, palm facing him. A gasp ran around the compartment as the two solid gold rings shimmered into view on his fingers. "The Blacks have been part of Wizarding nobility since the Dark Ages, while the Potters are even older still."

Harry allowed that to sink in for a moment, before pushing on. "But all that doesn't mean that I'm entitled to treat anyone as less than myself. No, I judge people on their merits, their actions. How they treat others.

"Mark my words, Malfoy. The time of Voldemorts reckoning is coming. And when judgement comes calling, he will be found… most wanting. He and I have unfinished business… and I will finish it, along with him, for good. All those who stand with him will not be shown quarter. They have made their bed, now they have to lie in it. They want to follow him, they can follow him into hell." All the while that Harry had been speaking, not once did his raise his voice, or alter his tone from a cool, calm one. It was definitely much more powerful because of it. He was speaking with emotion, but calmly, logically, as if the outcome was already set, it was just getting around to doing it. And while the other Prefects looked at him with a mixture of renew hope and respect, Hermione had lust in her eyes.

Draco felt fear coiling around his gut, but he refused to yield, his own pride and belief in the power of his master spuring him on. "How can you hope to even fight him Potter? You're nothing compared to him!"

Harry just looked back calmly, one eyebrow raised slightly. "Malfoy… don't you follow the tales and rumours? I've faced Voldemort five times…"

"Six," Hermione jumped in. Harry shot her a small smile, causing her heart rate to spike.

"Sorry. Six times Malfoy, and each time I've come away with at the least a draw. He's my nemsis… and I'm his. I have strengths he refuses himself. I have those around me, my family and friends. Together, we are far greater than the sum of our parts. He stands alone. And in the end, that will be his downfall.

"I have no intention of letting his twisted vision of the world become reality. Every which way he turns, I'll be there, ready to end him. And his bigotry will die with him."

Harry now looked pityingly at Draco. "For your own sake, I hope you have not bound yourself to him irreversibly. Because then I will have to tell a mother that I was forced to kill her son."

Draco now lunged forwards. "You know where my mother is? Where have you taken her?! TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!"

Harry leaned back a bit, as spittle was flying from Draco's mouth. "Why? So your father can kidnap her, bind her to him forcibly, so he can regain the funds he lost when the divorce went through?" Pansy's jaw dropped, prompting Harry to lift his eyebrow again. "You didn't know Parkinson? Draco neglected to mention that something like eighty-percent of the Malfoy fortune was actually Black Family money, paid out as a dowry? A dowry that, due to the Head of the Malfoy Family allowing himself to be branded like a herd animal, the Black family was fully entitled to reclaim, along with the interest from said dowry?"

At that moment Hermione notice something about Malfoy: his robes were did not the 'just off the hanger' look he normally had. There was a little fraying at the cuffs, and a few stains around the hem. His tie seemed a little small, and the shoes were scuffed. Clearly, he'd had to cut back on the personal grooming to make ends meet.

Harry had by now turned back to Draco, whose face was almost reaching Weasley red in colour. "I guess your father finally wanted to know what it felt like. After all, rumour has it the Malfoy men have always had a preference for their animals than their wives… Narcissa certainly backs up that claim. I mean really, separate beds since the honeymoon? I don't call that a marriage.

"A man once said to me 'It is our choices which define us Harry, not our past'. And while I have… issues, with him, that day he spoke truth. You have choices ahead Draco. Choose wisely, for one wrong one could spell your end." It was not a threat in Harry's tone, but a promise.

Draco still looked spitting mad, but Parkinson appeared to have developed a grain of common sense – or at the least self-preservation – and dragged the fuming young man over to the last remaining spaces in the compartment. Harry noted that those who were sitting either side of them shifted away as much as they could, leaving the two isolated, but before he could think on it much further he felt Hermione's hands snake around his shoulders. Turning his head, he looked into her sparkling eyes.

"That was inspiring Harry." She whispered before soundly kissing him.

Several of the Prefects smiled at the sight, though Chang scowled. Hannah chuckled to herself. "Some one's getting laid tonight."

* * *

After the tense start to the meeting, the Head Boy and Girl pressed on with matters. With Chang staying silent, it fell to the Head boy to welcome the new Fifth years, as well as Harry. Draco tried to insinuate that the Weasleys had been forced to sell the badge to Harry simply to make ends meet, but Harry shut that down fast. The position change had been at Professor McGonagall's insistence. Once the duties had been covered briefly once more and the passwords handed out, the schedules for the Express Patrol were handed out. Harry and Hermione had a mid-trip patrol, so they prepared to head back to their compartment. The last order of business was introducing the Auror assigned to the Express, Dawlish. Both of them only just managed to keep the scowls off their faces.

Returning to the compartment, they found the others had made themselves comfortable. The snack trolley had clearly been already, as a number of treats were scattered about. Hannah sank into her spot beside Neville with a sigh of relief, prompting curious looks from those who'd not been at the meeting.

"Malfoy. He's not changed a bit." Harry supplied as an explanation.

It was about an hour into the trip that a knock came on the door. As they looked up, a girl who looked like she was a third year Hulfflepuff stepped in hesitantly. "Can we help you Diana?" Susan asked. The personal form of address seemed to calm the younger girl.

"I've been asked to pass these to Neville Longbottom and Harry P-Potter." She stuttered slightly as she held out two scrolls, each tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, the two young men looked at each for a moment before reaching out to take them.

"Not so fast you two." Daphne spoke up, freezing them both. Her wand was out and she waved it over both scrolls, muttering something. When nothing happened she relaxed. "They're clean. No offense, Diana, was it? It's just there's a lot of people who'd like to harm these two…"

Nodding in understanding, Diana passed the scrolls across before stepping out of the compartment. Through the glass they could see that her calm air shattered once the door was closed, as she bolted away, her expression showing excitement. Shaking his head in resignation, Harry broke the seal to read the scroll.

'_Harry,_

_I would be delighted if you would join me for a spot of lunch in Compartment C, Carriage 4._

_Sincerely, Horace'_

"It's an invitation." Harry said, looking up to see Neville nodding.

"Same. But why me as well?" The old Neville likely would have asked that question nervously, but now only confusion filled his tone.

"Only one way to find out…" Harry sighed as he stood once more. He paused for a moment, before turning on the spot. "Daphne, care to accompany me?"

The elegant blond smiled as she stood. "I'd love to." Was her reply as they linked arms.

The walk along the Express was lined with other students watching them, many showing surprise at the sight of Daphne, the 'Slytherin Ice Queen', on Harry Potter's arm. They had expected something like this in their family plans before today… but it still wore at Harry's nerves. Fortunately, all his girls had discussed how to keep him calm and distracted from the staring. Daphne simply held his arm close, and Harry's expression brightened instantly.

When they reached the compartment mentioned, they discovered that they were not the only invitees. But judging by the enthusiasm of the initial welcome they received, Harry was certainly the most anticipated.

"Harry, m'boy!" The man sat on the one bench jumped to his feet as soon as the door was slid open, causing his great belly, covered in velvet clothing, to seemingly fill the remaining space in the compartment. The light shone on his bald head, while his silvery moustache gleamed, prompting Harry to wonder if it was real, or actually _made_ of silver. "Good to see you young man, good to see… you." The greeting trailed off a bit as the man took in the presence of Daphne on Harry's arm. But after a moment he regained his vigour. "I see you brought a guest! Excellent initiative, I have to say! And what is the name of this fair maiden?"

Daphne smiled sweetly, but Harry could tell that there was a forced air to it. "Daphne Greengrass, sir."

"Greengrass? Hmmm… now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time." The man seemed to have cooled considerably before he turned towards Neville, who so far had remained outside the compartment. "And you must be Neville Longbottom! Don't stand out there like that! Come in, Come in!"

Harry took the opportunity of the man sitting down to look at the others in the compartment. He recognised two of them: One was a Slytherin in their year, a tall dark skinned boy with high cheekbones and slanted eyes, and a Seventh Year Gryffindor that he'd seen around the Common Room but never spoken with. There was also another Seventh Year, by the look of him, in Ravenclaw colours. Turning back to their 'host' Harry allowed his head to dip forwards a little. "I'm afraid we have not been introduced, Mr…?"

"Oh, gracious me, how forgetful I am sometimes! Horace Slughorn at your service. Please, have a seat." After a quick glance with Daphne, the pair sat on the said side as the other Slytherin and the Ravenclaw, while Neville eased down between Slughorn and the door. The other Gryffindor was between Slughorn and the window: the corpulent man filled the space of two.

"Now then, I'm sure you know everyone here? Blaise Zabini in in your year, of course…"

Harry and Daphne turned to regard the Slytherin. "Hello Zabini." Daphne said softly, her tone cool. Blaise nodded in response, his expression unreadable. Harry just nodded, to be polite.

"This is Cormac McClaggen." A hand waved to the older Gryffindor. "Perhaps you've come across each other…? No?"

Harry shrugged lightly in response as McClaggen waved arrogantly.

"And this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether…"

Belby offered a strained smile, which on his thin face, made him look even more nervous.

A wicker basket was lowered down from the luggage racks with a flick of a wand. "Please, take a napkin. The Trolley, I'm afraid, does not agree with a poor old man's digestive system, so I packed my own lunch… Pheasant, Belby?" Once the boy had taken a portion, Slughorn carried on talking as a small basket of bread rolls came out. "I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his uncle Damocles. Outstanding wizard, outstanding. And that Order of Merlin was well deserved, I do say. Do you see him much, Marcus?"

Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a bite of pheasant, and in his haste to answer, swallowed too fast. He gagged and started to choke. Harry, who was sat next to him, swiftly slapped him on the back, freeing his airway.

"Ah, thank you P-Potter. And uh, I'm afraid not… not much of him, no."

"Well, of course, I dare say he's a very busy man." Slughorn seemed to have cooled once more as he examined Belby questioningly. "I sincerely doubt he invent the Wolfsbane potion without considerable hard work!"

"I suppose…" Belby shrugged nervously, toying with his remaining pheasant. He appeared eager to have another bite, but was afraid to do so until Slughorn had finished with. "He and my father don't get on very well, you see, so I don't…" He trailed off however as Slughorn had turned to Cormac beside him.

"Now Cormac… I know your uncle Tiberius very well. That is a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails… Norfolk, was it?"

"Yeah. That was fun." Cormac said smugly. "We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour. This was before he became Minister, of course…"

"Ah… you know Bertie and Rufus too?" Slughorn beamed as a plate of pies came out. Harry noted that Belby was somehow missed out when they went round. "Tell me…"

Harry turned to share a look with Daphne and Neville. The former clearly was thinking this was the same thing he was… and was using all her skill to keep her face pleasant. Neville, on the other hand looked worried. Neither lad had any delusions as to what, or rather who, Slughorn would refer too: his parents. The subject was almost never raised in the Manor: they all knew and understood that the topic was a very painful one for Neville. Lily had shared some of her school day stories with Neville regarding his mother, which had helped some, but most of them allowed the young man his privacy. Harry was convinced that Slughorn would _not_.

Turning back to the conversation, Harry heard that Zabini was there because he had a famously beautiful witch for a mother. One who had, apparently, been married seven times. Of note, each husband had died mysteriously soon afterward, leaving her a small mountain of gold each time.

"Now Neville…" Slughorn turned his attention onto Harry's friend. Inwardly Harry cringed. "…It's so sad what happened to your parents young man. Wonderful people, very talented…"

"So I've heard…" Neville muttered, his tone and body language clearly stating that he _didn't_ want to talk about the subject.

"Oh don't be so humble my boy!" Harry noted that Slughorn seemed to be reassessing Neville: that he was weighting and measuring his friend, and that he was found wanting. A fire was lit in Harry's gut. "They were gifted students of mine. So brave to stand up to…"

"Mister Slughorn." Harry forcibly cut in, prompting eyes to jump to him. "The matter you are talking about is one that my friend finds distasteful. I am asking you to drop this. Now." There was no mistaking the steel in Harry's tone.

"But of course, we have here Mister Potter!" Slughorn seemed to be trying to take Harry's intrusion in his stride, but there were clues to his discomfort. "Were to begin? The events of the start of the summer… why, I'm sure the _Prophet_ barely scratched the surface!" He was eyeing Harry like he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant.

Harry snorted. "Considering that, in my opinion, the _Prophet_ is of more use for wrapping fish and chips than wiping my arse, let alone reading, I would not be at all surprised if that publication got it's facts wrong."

There was no mistaking the discomfort Slughorn was feeling now. "But… surely what their calling you now, the 'Chosen One', must be correct? After all, there have been all those rumours over the years since your parents… I mean, your father's death… Put joy back into my heart to hear that your mother had survived that terrible night. Absolutely brilliant student she was. Very gifted… But of course you must be pretty special yourself… to have survived at barely a year old… Word is you have powers beyond extraordinary…"

A small cough from Zabini clearly showed his amused scepticism. Seeing a chance to tweak the Slytherin's nose, Daphne spoke up.

"Oh, he's gifted all right." She said sultrily, one hand lightly tracing up and down his shirt front. "Why… I could tell you all sorts of stories of what this man is capable of… stuff you could only dream of…"

Harry noted that while Belby had a look of stunned shock on his face, both Zabini and McClaggen were clearly infuriated. Slughorn was reddening from embarrassment. Neville… was smiling with amused exasperation.

Seeing that the old duffer was lost for words, Daphne lazily uncrossed her legs and stood up, putting just a bit more effort into rising seductively. "I think we're done here Harry, Neville. Why don't we head back to the rest of our group? You do have Prefect patrol soon Harry, and I think Neville's in need of a hug from his betrothed. Mister Slughorn, a pleasure." Harry suspected that only he and Neville could tell that her last word was completely untruthful. As Neville stood as well, she looked beyond Harry. "Blaise, can I have a word outside?"

A dark eyebrow rose in question, but the dark-skinned boy nodded in response and stood as well, following the three out. Slughorn watched them go with a jaw that hung open a little, clearly unsure of what just happened.

Once the door was closed Daphne looked to the other two. "Go on ahead guys. This won't take long."

Harry looked intently at her, his expression clearly stating his reluctance to leave her alone with a member of her former house. Daphne felt warmth fill her at his clear and obvious concern, but nodded and waved him off. Harry nodded in reply, and slowly began to follow Neville back to their compartment.

"Interesting Greengrass…" Zabini spoke quietly as she turned back to face him. The taller boy was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his gut casually. "You've gotten really close to Potter over the summer. Almost as close as Granger…"

"Zabini, I didn't ask you out here to talk about my life." Daphne cut in, her tone cool and sharp. She'd detected the edge in his voice when he said her friends' name. "I wanted to speak to you about _yours._"

"Mine?" He asked, his own voice turning sharp as well now.

"Yes. I know you're a Blood Purist. I know how you look down on Muggleborns." Daphne levelled her full Ice Queen look on him for a moment, before relaxing it a little. "But, unlike Malfoy, you don't go spouting off about it."

Blaise snorted. "Malfoy's an insult to all Purebloods. To all wizards, actually."

"For once, we agree. Look, we've never seen eye to eye, and I doubt we ever will. But I have to know: do you support Voldemort?"

Blaise shuddered, before glaring at her hotly. "Support that psycho? That lunatic's a mad dog! I don't care if he's the heir of Slytherin or not: someone like that needs putting down!"

Daphne now smiled lightly. "Good. That means that when the lines are drawn, we won't find you on the Bigots and Death Eaters side then?"

"You really think it'll come to that?"

"Of course it will. You're not that stupid Blaise. You can read the signs as well as me. Things are coming to a head. And when it does, I intend on being on the winning side."

Blaise raised an eyebrow again. "How can you be so sure that Potter will win?"

Daphne shrugged. "If Voldemort wins… well, I'd rather be dead than live in a world like that. He only sees servants and slaves, and the line between the two is very thin. Why don't you think on that for a while, and while you're at it, spread the word amongst the other Slytherins? It'll kill Harry to have to kill his classmates because they didn't think about where their choices would take them later on…"

Turning she walked away, leaving a very confused, but very thoughtful, Slytherin behind.

* * *

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Malfoy it seemed didn't dare try another attempt to goad Potter, contenting himself to glaring daggers when he and Hermione walked past outside when they made their patrol. Harry noted that while Zabini was in the same compartment, he didn't seem to be engaging with the rest of them. Daphne had relayed what had passed between her and the Slytherin when she returned to the compartment. While Harry applauded her attempt, he feared that too many in her old House were too steeped in the Blood Supremecy Movement to change now, with the possible exception of the youngest years. Malfoy had been up to his neck in it his first year, and the intervening years had only seen him sink deeper.

As dusk had fallen, the group stayed together as they left the station towards the carriages. As they moved Harry spied a couple more Aurors stationed about, watching over everything. _'They really ought to be looking outwards…'_ he thought before a gasp from in front snapped his attention.

Hannah was staring at the front of the nearest carriage… right at the thestral that was standing there. She'd blanched as white as a sheet, her jaw hanging. Neville, understanding in an instant, wrapped an arm around her comfortingly.

Daphne looked between her and the empty space, before the light almost visibly came on in her mind. "Wait… there's something actually pulling the carriage, right?"

Harry nodded. "Thestrals."

"And only those who've seen death can see Thestrals." Hermione supplied, looking a little unsure of herself. She turned to Luna. "Luna… I'm sorry for doubting you last year…"

Luna just smiled. "You were still innocent Hermione." Was her answer.

The ride up to the castle was done in silence, though they were cheered when they disembarked.

"No disasters this time Harry?"

"Hey Moony." Harry greeted the last Marauder happily, shaking his hand before pulling the taller man into a quick back slapping hug. "You settling in okay?"

Remus smiled. "Yes, Hagrid and McGonagall have both been very helpful. I've already put a few of the 'toys' out. Next couple of nights and I'll have the whole grounds covered." The 'Toys' as he called them had been cooked up between Daniel Granger and the Weasley Twins, a combination that _still_ sent shivers down Harry's spine. Resembling nothing more that oversized ball-bearings, each one was sensitive to movement, and could relay an image to a specially charmed and crafted mirror, via its own coloured pin which lit up when the monitor was tracking something. With a board on which he'd stuck a map of Hogwarts grounds, Remus could watch over the entire grounds without leaving the comfort of his new hut. They had calibrated the monitors to pick up anything that was roughly half an adult human in size, so he could also search for missing students, but not be distracted or confused by smaller animals. With direct communication charms linking his room with both the Headmasters office and McGonagalls, they would very quickly be alerted to a threat.

Remus greeted each of the teens warmly, but when he came to Tonks the two seemed to be unsure how to proceed… or unwilling to with an audience. "Why don't you all go on ahead?" He 'suggested'.

Harry felt a sly smile form on his lips. "Sure thing Moony. Don't do anything I wouldn't!"

"Harry! 'ere isn't anything you wouldn't do, silly boy!" Fleur teased him light-heartedly.

"You wound me, mon cheri." Harry affected a pained tone, pressing a hand to his chest. Fleur smiled brilliantly however at his attempt to use her own language, and rewarded him with a searing kiss for it.

It was as they entered the Entrance Hall that a thought occurred to Susan. "Say, uh Fleur… where are you going to sit for the feast? I'm not sure you'd be allowed to sit at our table…"

"That has already been thought of, Miss Bones." McGonagall called out as she stepped across from the room that Harry remembered was where they had waited to be sorted their first year. "Regretfully, you are correct. Miss Delacour, as neither a student nor a school guest, is not permitted to sit in on the Welcome feast. I have however had a place set for her with Mister Lupin and Miss Tonks, near the Staff table. Remus knows where it is, so if you could, perhaps…?"

Fleur nodded. "Of course, Professor. Thank you."

McGonagall smiled lightly. "It was no bother Fleur. We had the table already set up anyway. Now…" She turned back to the others. "…Normally you are only permitted to sit at your House table for the Feast. In light of certain circumstances, I have managed to gain a waiver for Miss Lovegood to sit where she chooses. I'm afraid I could not do the same for Miss Davis, Miss Abbot or Miss Astoria Greengrass, however…"

"We can cope for one meal." Tracy said calmly. "It is only for the Welcome feast, right?"

McGonagall nodded once more, her expression brightening. "Yes. While most tend not to use the opportunity, once tonight is over you are free to sit at which ever table you like." Her eyes lingered on Gobbler, who was once more free of his basket and wrapped protectively in Luna's arms, but she decided it was not worth saying anything. The truth about the Terrible Terror would get out sooner or later: may as well be now. "If you will excuse me…"

The group minus Fleur walked through into the Great Hall. Harry took a deep breath as he crossed the threshold. Yes, Potter Manor was his home now, but Hogwarts would always have a special place in his heart. After a few words with Daphne, Tracy and Astoria split off at the Slytherin's table, with Hannah hugging Neville once more before sitting at the Hufflepuff one. Not that most of the other students noticed any of them, as all eyes were on Harry and the witches around him. Hermione, Susan and Daphne all cut stunning figures around him, each with their own style and poise. As they approached the table Harry saw some jaws drop. He felt a bubble of pride well up within him at the looks.

Looking towards the Staff table, Harry noted Dumbledore watching him with an expression that Harry couldn't quite identify at this distance. Seeing his look, the headmaster nodded slowly, a gesture of respect. Harry returned the move, but his eyes tracked along the table, seeking…

The head of rich red hair gave her away. Harry beamed up at his mother sat at the table, looking like she belonged there. Lily returned the smile, her hand waving him to sit down as she did. Harry followed her implicit command just as the doors opened once more to admit McGonagall, the new first years trailing behind her. _'were we ever that small?'_ He thought as he followed their progress.

His motion was halted however when his eyes landed on Ronald. Ron was watching the younger children with an empty expression, one that looked very odd on his former best friend. As if sensing Harry's gaze, Ron turned his head to look back. Harry had to fight the urge to recoil. Ron's gaze was unrecognisable, almost alien, to Harry. There was not a trace of the Ron he thought he knew in there. It was like looking into the eyes of a puppet.

So disturbed by the sight, Harry completely missed the Hat's song and the sorting. It was only when Susan tugged on his arm that he reconnected with the world around him. "Harry, what's wrong?" He blinked to see that their entire group was looking at him with concern written across their faces.

"Ron. He's… there's something very wrong with him. I… I can't explain it, but…" He looked down, and was surprised to see the feast had begun already.

Hermione glanced towards where the red-head was indulging in his usually gluttony. She swallowed back a stab of nausea: his table manners appeared to have gotten even worse. "Looks like normal to me right now." At Harry's look though, she reconsidered. "We'll speak with McGonagall as soon as we can. For now, eat something."

As Harry tucked in, Hermione watched him and Ronald carefully. Harry was clearly disturbed by whatever it was he sure in Ron just before the Sorting begun, which did not bode well at all. Harry was very hard to disturb to this extent…

As for Ron… Harry was right, like he normally was actually. There _was_ something off about him. He acted and sounded like the Ron they had known, but still… something nagged at her.

"Hermione? Can I have a moment?" She turned her head the other way to meet the face of Lavender, who was looking at her almost nervously.

"Yes Lavender? Something wrong?"

"No… I, it's just…" Lavender seemed highly nervous about something. "I… well, I was wondering if you two were going to run the DA again this year."

Hermione blinked for a moment in surprise. She had not been expecting that question from her blond-haired dorm mate. "We'd talked about it, decided to see what the new DADA professor was like before we decided anything." She cast a look at the new face sat at the Staff Table. "Personally, I don't have high hopes after seeing him, so I think it'll be likely. Why?"

Lavender played with her food for a moment before replying. "Hermione… the attacks were all over the _Prophet._ Seeing just who was attacked… and what happened… I realised that I need to be better." She now looked up at the stunned brunette. "Even if you don't run the DA again, could you give me some extra lessons? I… I realised what not being able to defend myself will mean…"

Hermione nodded, understanding perfectly. Lavender would be a prime target for the rapists in the Death Eaters ranks. It would be better to die than fall into their hands. She placed a hand over Lavenders in support. "We all know, Lavender. I think we will run the DA again, just to be safe." She frowned slightly. "Might need a name change though…"

"Huh? Why? What's wrong with it?" Lavender asked confusedly.

A deep sigh came from across the table. "It's the alternative name of the DA that's the issue." Susan supplied. At the baffled look on the blonde's face, she carried on. "We've all got trust issues with the Headmaster right now… none more so than Harry."

"Oh…" Lavender was clearly shocked. "But he's…"

"Albus Dumbledore, oh yes we know that." Daphne finished, one hand rubbing Harrys back as she spoke. "But he's still human Lavender. He can make mistakes. And in Harry's case… he's made far too many. Big ones too."

Lavender looked between the three witches, the wheels visibly turning in her mind. Her mouth opened, clearly to ask what they were talking about… then her eyes fell onto Harry, and her mouth clicked closed. Even the self-styled 'Gossip Queen' could see that this topic was not to be spread. She had too much respect for Harry to do that to him.

There was also the fact that she knew that Hermione was very smart, and knew a lot of obscure curses. Marrietta was _still_ trying to hide the effects of the cursed parchment of the DA from last year.

Then something completely diverted her attention.

"What is that?" She half yelped as Gobbler's head poked up over the table from Luna lap, where he'd been curled up. No one had noticed him before since she'd been behind Harry and the others as they walked to the table, and when she'd sat down she'd moved the little dragon to her lap.

"Oh don't mind Gobbler. He's just after fish. Insatiable, he is." Luna said happily. She speared a chunk of roast ham from a platter before offering it to him. Gobbler's head snapped forwards after a few sniffs, wolfing the meat down eagerly.

"But… I… That's… But…" Lavender stuttered for several seconds before her brain managed to bypass the jam to speak clearly. "But that's a dragon!"

"Correct. Terrible Terror." Hermione said calmly. "Oh don't worry. We reckon he's fully grown."

By now Lavender was getting over her shock, and her expression was shifting to a look of awe. "Oh my… he's so cute!"

"Looks more like an overgrown frog to me." Seamus stated, his tone clearly stating his disdain. Gobbler however, did not care for his tone at all, and a hiss Harry was familiar with was emitted.

"Better duck and run Seamus, that's a signs he's…" Harry paused as a spear of fire shot out of Gobblers mouth. Seamus jerked back in shock, the flames racing past his face close enough to singe his eyebrows. Harry wondered how many times one's eyebrows could take such punishment. "…About to breath fire." He finished.

Seamus poked his head up over the table from where he'd fallen onto the floor. His expression was one of awe. "Wicked! You've got to tell me where you found him!"

"Squatting on my lands, actually." Harry replied dryly, prompting laughter from everyone who'd watched on in wide-eyed shock and awe. After that the little dragon became the centre of attention, with several Hufflepuffs and even a few Ravenclaws coming over to see the 'mini-dragon'. Gobble seemed to bask in the attention, but when one witch got a little too close he hissed again, and she hastily backed off. Only Luna got to cuddle him. The others in Harry's family could pet and stroke, but he was Luna's… and she his.

When at last the feast ended, Dumbledore stood and strode to the podium before his seat. "Good evening one and all! To those of you returning, welcome back to Hogwarts! And to those of you new to our hallowed halls, I bid you welcome. Now I'm sure you are all eager to get settled in tonight, so I'll try to keep my comments brief…"

Dumbledore paused, as the whispers were starting to build. The cause was obvious: his right hand was almost black, and looked dried up. Smiling lightly, he shrugged his shoulders, allowing the sleeve of his robe to ride down and cover the damaged limb.

"A small matter, nothing for you all to worry about. Now, where was I… oh yes. Once again, I find I have to remind all returning student that the Forbidden Forest is just that: Forbidden. I have recently been told that just saying that will likely have the opposite effect on most of you, but please, do try and stay out of the forest. While we have increased security around the grounds, the staff cannot be everywhere at once.

"Now, Mister Filch, the caretaker, has updated his listing of banned objects. I told it now includes the entire contents of the recently opened store Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes. Which, if what I hear is true, is doing a roaring trade." He now leaned forward, as if to impart a vital secret to the students. "Truth be told, some of their jokes are new even to me. Ah, it is always a sad day when one has not laughed at least once during it." Some of the students chuckled.

"I will get onto the increased security I mentioned before in a moment, but first, I must, once again…" he drawled in a long-suffering tone. "…Announce a change in staff. Over the summer, I was able to welcome a former professor back. Horace Slughorn…" Slughorn now stood, waving to the students while beaming. "…Has graciously agreed to return for this year to teach his old subject, potions…"

"Potions?" Harry gasped, sharing wide-eyed looks with the others in his group.

"…some of you may have heard of him from your parents. Professor Snape, for this year, will instead take on the role of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor…"

"WHAT!?" Harry yelped, so loudly that everyone was shocked silent. Harry's look of shock would have been comical… had the situation been any different. Snapes response was to sneer at him.

"I assume you all, Professor Snape is more than capable of teaching you how to resist the Dark Arts." Dumbledore looked about the hall, his eyes lingering on Harry for a long moment. Harry frowned, but kept quiet. They would definitely have words about this later! He did note however that his mother was also glaring at the headmaster. Clearly Lily hadn't been told of this either… and from the expressions on their faces, neither had McGonagall or Flitwick!

"Now, our last change is one that is going to be very important to all of you." Dumbledore seemed immune to the glares burning into his back. His tone now demanded attention. "Hogwarts is the premier school in the Magical world. However… it has been drawn, rather forcibly I have to say, to my attention that the Magical World is only a small part of the _whole_ world. The muggle world is so much larger, so much more massive than our own, it would be foolish in the extreme for us to deny its existence. Or worse, ridicule it." His gaze now appeared to be resting on the Slytherin table, rather sternly from what Harry could see.

"As such, from this year, Muggle Studies is being made a Core subject…" A babble of raised voices erupted, mainly of outrage from the Slytherin table, forcing the Headmaster to raise his own voice to overpower it. "…A core subject to _at least_ OWL level!" The hubbub died away, prompting Harry to wonder if the Headmaster had done some subtle magic when he raised his voice. "Those of you who chose Muggle Studies as an Elective will have a chance to choose another course instead. All Fourth years and who did not chose the course will attend catch up courses, to ensure that you are familiar enough with the muggle world to be able to living there without drawing attention to yourselves… which if any of you had studied history properly, would know that is the reason we hide from the muggles.

"Alas, just before the start of term, our beloved Muggle Studies Professor requested a year's leave. Visiting relatives in the states, I believe. I hope he's doing research into muggle/wizard relationships over there. Fortunately a delightful young woman who is particularly gifted with understanding muggles has stepped forwards to fill the gap, at least for the time being. I take the great pleasure to introduce this year's Muggle Studies Teacher… Madam Lily Potter."

As Lily stood, one could have heard a pin drop in the hall. For about a half second. Then the cheers and wolf-whistles started. Lily smiled bashfully, which just increased the number of whistles, before sitting down again.

"Well, after that warm welcome… I have to talk to you about serious, dark matters." All the jovial tones had gone from the Headmasters words, and the hall fell silent.

"As was proved at the end of last year, Voldemort has, indeed, returned. So far, thanks to skill, timing and not a small amount of luck, his first opening strikes have not been as effective as he'd hoped. All resources at the Ministry's disposal are being trained against him… and those that follow him. Due to the unsettled natured of things right now, the wards around these grounds have been enhanced, and a team of Aurors are stationed in Hogsmede for protection of this school. This does mean that, unfortunately, the staff will be tighter on ensuring you are all tucked up in your Common Rooms each night. With all of you safe in your dorms, the staff can more easily deal with issues cropping up from outside. Please, heed the directions of the staff, for if something happens, we likely will not have the time to explain everything clearly." Harry took a look over towards the Slytherin table. Just by looking, he could see that while most of the students were listening attentively, about a third appeared to be not bothered. Malfoy, in fact, was levitating his fork, looking completely bored.

"But the battle against the darkness will not be fought just outside these walls. At the same time I was reminded about how much the Muggle world out numbers us, I was also reminded about something that I should never have forgotten. What you learn within these walls shapes your lives outside, afterwards. I don't mean the spells or the essays… I mean the life lessons. Choices and actions have consequences. It is our duty as teachers to teach you, not just how to do magic, but also about life, about how to act. How to live. The habits of a lifetime are formed here. Those which are good, such as kindness, compassion and understanding, must be embraced. But those born of selfishness, of deceit, of cruelty… those must be stamped out, forgotten."

Quite a few Slytherins – and to Harry's concern, a number of Ravenclaws – were looking nervously at each other. It was clear that the hidden meaning to the Headmasters words were reaching them: Bullying was no longer tolerated.

"Now, you have all heard me drone on for long enough, and those beds of yours are waiting. Pip pip!"

As they stood Harry saw McGonagall striding down towards them, Lily just behind her. Harry held still, his family around him staying together.

"I see Gobbler was a success." Lily commented when she reached them, throwing a smile for Luna, who beamed in reply.

"Yes… even if he did nearly burn Finnagan's face off." McGonagall stated, her brow furrowed.

"Honestly professor, Seamus does that himself nearly every term." Harry replied, with Neville nodding vigorously behind him.

McGongall sighed. "I know, which is why I'll not pursue the matter. In any case, Albus said you have a meeting arranged with him now?" At Harry's nod, she carried on. "As I assume all of you will going along, I'll join you, and then lead you all to your chambers afterwards."

Nodding his thanks, Harry turned to regard the headmaster, who was still stood at the podium, watching the students filter out.

Maybe this time, they would get some answers.

* * *

**A/N: **And there we have it. Hopefully I covered everything I needed too. Well, I hope that you all enjoyed this early Christmas present. Have a good holiday!


	44. Consolidation

**A/N:** *sighs* I'm sorry people for the slow update. I've just had a lot of trouble lately getting into the right 'mood' to write. I have not forgotten this story however: It has always been in my mind. Hence this short chapter. I decided to post this now, to reassure you all that I am still around.

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Chapter 44: Consolidation

Dumbledore sighed wearily as he sank down into his chair. Tilting his head back he glazed sightlessly upwards towards the ceiling of his office. The first of September had always been a busy day, as there was always a few last minute things that needed to be done before the students arrived. But this year it had been much, much longer, as he'd neglected the school even more this summer, leaving Minerva to handle things while he tried to run down Voldemort's remaining Horcrux's. He told himself it was good training for her, for when she took over as headmistress.

In his heart however, not even Albus could truly believe that lie.

Worse of all... the day was not over yet.

As he waited for Harry's group to arrive, Albus reflected on the evening... and the summer just past. So much had happened, that at times he'd been bewildered, unsure as to which way to turn. To someone such as himself, used to always being in control and understanding a situation, it had been most disconcerting.

And the events regarding young Harry in particular... Another sigh escaped his lips, one laced with regret. Looking back, so many mistakes were clear to him now. He was not too prideful to deny the existence of them anymore, not after they had been pointed out so... forcefully, by those around him. The words of that rather dangerous muggle had shaken him to the core.

But worst of all had been the look in Lily's eyes. She'd been a star pupil, and had looked up to him. Now, her eyes were filled with utter contempt.

He didn't know how long he sat there, his mind turning over past choices and decisions, second-guessing himself, until there was a sharp rap on his door. Startled, it took Albus a few moments to gather his thoughts. "Enter."

McGonagall was the first to enter, and Albus could tell just from the look on her face the tone of the ensuring conversation. _'She did know it was a strong possibility...' _he mused inwardly.

He was slightly alarmed, though truthfully not surprised, at the number of young people who followed Harry in. _'He's really formed alliances...'_ Dumbledore felt very uneasy at bearing such young people with the many dark truths that he knew, but he also knew that right now he had no choice.

Once everyone was sat, he decided to jet things started. "Welcome Har... Mister Potter." He corrected himself at the sharpened looks he received from Harry and Lily. "I am pleased you agreed to this meeting. There is much I feel you need to know."

"We'll get to that headmaster. However, first... what the hell are you thinking!" Lily was almost rising from her chair. "Snape as the Defence Professor? How can you have a... a... a _person_ like _that_ in such an important role, especially at a time like this?"

"I assume you Lily, Professor Snape is more than qualified to teach defence."

"No, he's not Albus. I remember what he was like as a student. He only really excelled in Potions. Average at best in Defence. And what of the years after graduating? I don't recall him ever gaining a Mastery in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Harry snorted. "He likely has a Mastery in _using_ the Dark Arts, knowing him."

A frown creased Dumbledore's brow. "Mister Potter, do not make accusations without proof."

"Professor, with all due respect," Hermione cut into the conversation now, her tone firm. "But even you admit he was a Death Eater, at least before turning spy for you. And his behaviour, both in and out of the classroom, would see him fired from any normal school faster than you could blink."

"We haven't even begun to list the atrocities within Slytherin House." Daphne spoke up, though there was a nervous quaver in her voice. "While he rarely partook in the actions that certain students did, he also didn't curtail them in any way. Threats and innuendo were more his domain." She turned to look at McGonagall. "That's why there haven't been any complaints before now. He's got the whole house terrified of him."

"Albus... why did you make him the Defence Professor?" Remus asked quietly. "With everything going on right now, it's more important than ever that the students are taught Defence well. Surely there were other applicants for the post?"

Dumbledore sighed loudly as he seemed to sink back into his chair in resignation. "That's just the thing. There were _no _applicants. Every single person I approached about the role wanted nothing to do with it, sometimes even slamming the door in my face. And after last year's debacle, the Ministry won't even acknowledge the bylaw Fudge used to place Umbridge here. Severus was the only person in the whole country who expressed an interest." He looked up to meet the eyes of his guests. "Believe me, I am aware that he is not liked as a professor, and have already had a word with him regarding his conduct." To say Snape had _not_ been happy during that meeting would have been an understatement.

"Then why did 'ou not fulfil the role yourself?" Fleur asked pointedly.

"Ah... that is due to the bane of all our existences, Miss Delacour. Time. Lack of, to be precise. Remember, I am not only the headmaster of this school. I also have duties with the Wizangamont and the ICW. And then there is the fight against our Dark Lord. Which is why I asked for this meeting."

Albus paused for a few moments, his eyes darting between the teens before finally settling on Harry. "I had originally planned to broach this subject slowly to you alone Harry. I felt, and still feel, that in order to defeat Voldemort, you have to understand his roots, where he's coming from."

"What's to understand? He's an insane lunatic with delusions of grandeur." Susan commented dryly.

Albus's beard twitched. "Alas, Voldemort is far more than just that. In his youth he was a brilliant student, gifted with both intellect and charisma. It is only in later life that his megalomania began to manifest."

"You mean as he made more and more Horcrux's?"

Albus nodded slowly at Hermione's question. "Yes. Understand, for years I have been tracing his roots, trying to understand him, searching for clues not only to why he did what he did, but what he would have used and where he would have hidden them. At the same time, I was trying to remove or destroy any information about those vile abominations, in the hope that no one else ever do what he has done again."

Hermione huffed, clearly unsettled at the notion of destroying knowledge. "I hope you have kept _some_ records. At the very least weaknesses and means of destroying them!"

"Ah... Alas, those who practiced this dark art were not in the habit of finding out what would destroy their work. Before now, only one other has made more than one, and even that particular wizard only made two. It is part of who he is, to go further than any other. Even as a young student, he had a drive to be superior. But... I fear he either was unaware of, unlikely given his intellect, or disregarded the signs of the cost on his humanity. Make no mistake though. He still wields his full intellect and abilities; he is only lacking the proper restraint provided by morals or feelings such as compassion."

Harry slowly cocked his head to one side. "How successful have you been at finding his 'treasures'?"

Now a smile finally formed on the Headmasters face, half hidden by his beard as it was. "We have been very fortunate, thanks to you, Harry. When you laid that diary on my desk three years ago, you brought me one that I had been totally unaware of. I also had long suspected both the Locket unearthed at Grimmuald Place and the Cup from Bellatrix's vault to have been used by him as receptacles for his horcrux's, but their location eluded me. And as you are aware already..." his eyes dropped to his right hand, which rested on the desk before him. "...I located and destroyed another over this summer, though not without a cost. Now, with what I have pieced together, I suspect he has only two remaining. Once they are gone, he will be as mortal as everyone else."

Both Lily and Daphne gasped lightly. "Of course. Seven is the most powerful number arithmetically." Said Daphne.

Lily nodded in reply. "He must have been thinking that having that number would have added effects."

Albus beamed. "Your thoughts add weight to my conclusion. Of course, we cannot know for sure without one small, but vital piece of information."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, a little nervous as the Headmasters eyes were now on him again.

Albus sighed. "It seems that before he begun down his dark path, he consulted with a few people regarding parts of his plan. As I said, he had – and still does, to a degree – a great deal of personal charisma, which when combined with his gifted silver tongue allowed him to charm information out of almost anyone. Professor Slughorn is one of those he consulted. Horace is knowledgeable about a great many things, one of which is Arithmancy, which Tom did not study. One of the memoires I had planned to share was Horace's, of the discussion they had on this subject. However, Horace, for what I believe was guilt, deliberately withheld the vital part of the discussion. I had intended to ask you to acquire the full, un-edited memory from Horace this year Harry. But I think we can safely say that the critical point we have already deduced."

Harry sat back slowly, a scowl on his face. Another name who had, even unwittingly, assisted Voldemort in becoming what he was. Putting aside his issues with the Headmasters revealed intentions, he thought back to what had been said. "Do you have any clue to what else he may have used? Or do you only have old information that's not much use?"

Albus bowed his head. "I understand why you say that Harry. But I had to reiterate, understanding Voldemort is, I am convinced, key to his defeat. As for what he may have used... I consider his familiar to be a likely candidate."

It was lily's turn to frown. "That would be an exceptionally long lived snake, Headmaster."

"Normally, yes. But Nagini is no common garden snake. Whatever breed it was once, it has been magically augmented and enhanced, growing to incredible size and intellect. Also, I believe that if he has made her a horcrux, it was after his resurrection. My own reading of him tells me that on that fateful Halloween night, he intended to make another Horcrux... via your death, Harry. Once he came back, he must have felt that he needed the edge of having another Horcrux. His display in the Ministry was greater than our previous duels."

"Great." Harry slumped in his chair. "How in the hell am I supposed to beat him in your great master plan then? He's got power and experience over me."

"Not so much, Harry. Not any more. You see, the synergy of the Horcruxes may have elevated his power, but without them... he is weakened."

"But one had already been destroyed!"

Albus smiled again. "Yes, the oldest, destroyed before he returned. But think once more on the nature of Arithmancy. I am no expert on the subject, but what is the core reason that the number seven is so strong?"

Daphne frowned. "In rituals, seven points form a septagram, but really that's not that much more powerful that five points, in a pentagram. In both however, the object, or target, of the ritual sits at the focal point of the shape."

"Yes, correct. Five points to Gryffindor, for remembering classical arithmetic ritual arrangements." Daphne blushed a little under the headmasters praise. "But that only covers classical rituals. The key point in all this is 'focal point'."

"Wait. Can't you place six points around a seventh, in a cube?" Remus asked questioningly.

"Of course!" Lily gasped. "Six points can be used to define a seventh, the _focal point._ When used as a ritual with free floating, pure magic runes draw in air, all the output of the six are focused into one single point. _That's_ why seven is such a powerful number."

Albus nodded. "Yes. Six horcruxes, with his new body as a focal point, would account for his greater than normal level of spell-casting. But, in short order, he's lost four of those anchors."

"This is all interesting..." Susan commented dryly. "But how does it affect us? What about the fight against him, and his followers?"

Albus sighed. "I wish I could give you firm answers Miss Bones. I have been following up every lead I can unearth, however unlikely, to see if they lead to something. In regard to the war we're in, for now we have to let the Aurors do their job and contain the threat. The key is Voldemort. Remove him, and the Death Eater cause will wither and die."

"No, it won't Albus." Remus said quietly, sombrely. "Last time, after That Night, they just went to ground, kept quiet, and waited. Waited for his return. And in the meanwhile, lined their pockets and corrupted all those around them. We've had a ineffectual minister, one whose leanings were easily bought. A portion of the younger generation have grown up with the Death Eater poison filling their ears.

"The root cause is the Pure-Blood Supremacist movement. That's what we really need to tackle. Vo-Voldemort is the current leading figure. It's a cancer, and it has to be purged."

"That is a rather extreme view, Remus." There was a concerned note in Dumbledore's tone.

"It's the only way, Headmaster." Harry cut in. "Do you really think that people like Malfoy, or the LeStrange's will say their sorry and seek redemption if you drop Voldemort dead in front of them? Those people are far beyond that. They're totally corrupt to the core."

"And what of Bellatrix? You took her in..."

"Special case old man. And she would be the first to say she's beyond redemption. I've had to set an elf on suicide watch for her." Harry kept quiet that the suggestion had come from Narcissa. She'd told him about how she'd found her sister when her insanity broke... and how she'd tried to take her own life, with Narcissa right in front of her.

"But that issue aside, Remus has raised another point. We have a war to fight in the halls of this school. A war for hearts and minds. I wouldn't be at all surprised to discover that Malfoy's taken the Dark Mark by now. Other's might have as well, or will do soon. Perhaps if you had trusted others to go on your little 'treasure hunts', and kept your eyes closer to home, you could have stopped us coming to this: where we will have to fight our classmates for real." With those parting words Harry stood and made to leave. As one the others also stood and followed him out the office, leaving a tired old man in the ruins of his old plans with much to think on.

* * *

The walk towards Gryffindor Tower was done in silence. Everyone had the meeting on their mind. Harry's 'guests' – Astoria, Luna & Hannah – had waited at the bottom of the stairs leading to Dumbledore's office, and rejoined the party when they left. Seeing the expressions on their faces, the three kept quiet.

It was as they ascended the stairs to the fifth floor that the silence between them was finally broken. "His idealism is going to be the death of him." Daphne commented softly.

"Either that or his sheer wilful blindness." Lily muttered. Then she sighed. "But then again, I'm guilty of the same..."

Faintly Harry heard a quiet "myself as well." From McGonagall ahead of them.

"Difference is you recognised and admitted that you were blinkered. He's denying the truth that's right in front of his nose." Susan shook her head slowly, her expression one of disbelief. Out of all of them, Susan had had the most trouble dealing with learning about Dumbledore's failings. While Hermione and Harry had been raised in the muggle world, and Daphne in a neutral alignment family, Susan's upbringing had been firmly Light orientated, where Dumbledore was revered second only to Merlin himself. To learn about such an idols flaws...

They reached the Fat Lady, who smiled conspiratorially at the teens as they approached. "Out fooling around on your first night here? Somebody's eager." To spare McGonagall, none of them decided to mention they'd spent the night before in a tangle of limbs.

Then the portrait saw who was walking behind the teens. "Well Merlin be praised! We'd heard you were still alive, but seeing is believing!"

Lily smiled faintly. "Good to see you too Matilda."

Both Harry and Hermione stopped, their eyes jumping between Lily and the Fat Lady. "Matilda?"

"Oh wonderful Mrs Potter, you still remember my name. Of course, I still remember one Miss Evans, and how one Mister Potter used to get under her skin trying to woo her." At the younger pairs continued staring she huffed. "Did you two really think I spent my whole life being called 'The Fat Lady'? Please."

"This way you two." McGonagall's call from further up the landing curtailed any response the teens could have made. Hurrying over, they joined the others stood in front of another painting. This was not a portrait; instead the painting showed an African vista. The only real point of interest was a rocky outcrop, on top of which a regal lion lounged, king of all he surveyed. Being a magical painting, they could see the lion's fur and mane rippling in the wind.

"Austin." McGonagall spoke, and the lion's head turned to regard her rather than the plains around him. "These will be your residents this year." The lion regarded each one of them stately, before nodding once. With a clunk the portrait opened away from the wall like a door, revealing the hidden entryway.

Harry was the first through, and he looked about in wonder as he stepped in. The room they had entered was roughly half-circular in shape, with them entering via one of the corners. To their immediate right was another door, which he guessed led into the Gryffindor Common room. Further ahead, the curved wall was bisected by a wide, tall fire-place. Either side were three doorways, though one had no door, just a set of steps rising up in a spiral.

The space before them was roughly split into three areas. The area directly in front of them was open, while the area in front of the fireplace had a number of comfortable looking sofas. The final area held a dining table, on top of which were their trunks and other baggage. Crookshanks was already curled up on one of the sofas.

The last feature was along the wall to their left, a set of French doors, through the glass of which they could see that they had a parapet looking out over the grounds.

"We are at the top of one of the smaller side towers of the main Gryffindor Tower." McGonagall explained. "You have direct access to the Gryffindor Common Room. I expect you to make use of that and mingle with your housemates." McGonagall now speared Harry with a sharp look. "I trust you will not abuse the privileges provided." The twitch at the corner of her mouth took some of the heat out of her words however.

"Oh I'm sure he won't." Lily replied, one hand snaking across his shoulders to gently hug him. Instantly some of the tension left Harry's frame, and a smile formed on face as he leaned into the hug.

That twitch eased into a small smile. "Yes... We'll see. Now, this room..." she moved past the door leading to the Common Room to the door on the far right from the fireplace. "...Will be yours Lily. Its a bit smaller than the others, but has its own bathroom and an internal floo connection, which you can use to contact any other office or residence. The other four are each twin rooms, with two shared bathrooms."

Fleur quickly glanced around their group, doing a head count. "Um, Madam McGonagall... there are nine of us..."

"Yes. Harry's room is upstairs."

Harry's shoulders slumped a little. Seeing his action Hermione stepped closer and took his hand in hers. "Don't worry Harry. If it's anything like I suspect, we'll easily be able to visit you." There was a glint in her eye that Harry had become familiar with, and he beamed in reply.

McGonagall nodded, a faint blush forming on her cheeks. "Well then, I'll see you at breakfast in the morning. Good night." With that she turned and stepped out of their chambers.

As soon as the portrait was shut Hermione spun to face Harry, took his head in her hands and kissed him, hard. For a couple of moments Harry stood stunned, before his arms came up and wrapped around his brunette lover. Hermione held the kiss for several seconds before slowly drawing back. "I've been wanting to do that since you smacked Malfoy down."

Harry grinned for a moment, before he sighed. "What we going to do Hermione?"

"Same as we always do. Muddle through somehow on our own."

"Not on your own." Susan said, having stepped up beside the pair. Leaning forward, she slipped an arm around both. "Not this time."

A second set of arms, coming from the other side, prompted both Harry and Hermione to look to their other side to see Daphne stepping into the group. "We're all in this together." She said softly.

"You're not alone any more Harry..." The tension in Harry's frame faded away at his mother's voice, coming from just over his shoulder. Looking up and around, he could see how Fleur had moved to behind Hermione, while Tracy was just past his other shoulder. Silently he allowed the warmth and comfort of family to soak into him. The discussion with the headmaster, while short, had been disquieting. While Harry did not profess to understand everything said clearly, he did get the basics. Until both the remaining, unknown items were cleansed of his taint, Voldemort would remain invincible.

But... there was hope now. Via Hermione's uncle, he had been kept in the loop as to the measures and actions the Army Force were taking to engage the Death Eaters. The Ministry was finally taking action, although so far only the measures taken by Madam Bones were effective. But the Wizarding public was now aware of the danger, and with the campaign of information they were starting to feed into the public via the _Quibbler_, they hoped to soon destroy the image of the Death Eaters, and reveal the corrupt men underneath.

And Harry had no intention to ever back down from such men. Not now, not ever.

Lily gently squeezed his shoulder. "Come on, time for bed you lot. Classes in the morning."

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**A/N: **There. Again, sorry for the short length. I can't predict when the next chapter will be, but rest assured I do keep this in mind. There's so many great scenes I want to share...

The same thing happened with 'Crisis' you know. Posted the first half, left for ages, then got a second wind and finished it. Hopefully, I'll get that second wind sooner than later...

Thanks for reading.


	45. Forming, Mending and Breaking Bonds

**A/N: **(*dusts off profile and document uploader*) Sorry to everyone for the long delay. Lets just say that Life can really get in the way sometimes...

This chapter went through so many re-runs in my head, especially the first part. It was the rest that took the time, along with actually getting it down... But it's here now, barely an hour after I finished it (the intervening was used for a quick proof read and spell check)

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The door to the Potions classroom banged open, and Hermione stalked out, her heels rapping sharply on the stone floor. Those who witnessed her passing shied away, many having seen this behaviour before. Those who hadn't, were still able to recognise the simple fact that Miss Granger was angry.

Behind her, Harry rushed out of the classroom. "Hermione, wait!" he called, but his bushy-haired lover just kept on walking. Running a hand through his hair Harry set off after her, his mind going over the day as Tracy emerged from the classroom behind him.

They had gone to the Great Hall as a group, Lily splitting off just before to enter via the Teachers doorway up by the staff table. McGonagall had arrived towards the end, bearing timetables for all of them... including those not in her House. She'd apparently collected Hannah's, Luna's, Tracy's and Astoria's from the other Heads of House.

The 'Girls Trio' – Hermione, Susan & Daphne – had been the first off to class, Arithmancy, while Harry and Neville had headed towards the Ancient Runes secondary class. Hermione in particular had had been thrilled at his new studious attitude. Harry had explained that after seeing how much runes were actually used, he ought to know more about them.

It had been the next class, Defence Against the Dark Arts, where things had started going downhill. Snape had already imposed his stamp on the classroom, making it almost as gloomy and dark as the Potions room had been under his tenure. The images that now adorned the walls, depicting those under the effects of various dark curses, unsettled the stomach.

However, for the group Snape was a far more unsettling figure. The 'man' just could not be trusted. Dumbledore assertions that Snape was on their side rang hollow in their ears. As were his words that he'd spoken with the Professor regarding his conduct towards the students. He was just as biased and spiteful as ever. Hermione had answered all the questions he raised correctly, but he'd not given one point, just sneered and commented that 'know-it-all's that learn the textbooks verbatim would last only seconds.' In a real situation. Harry had been ready to throttle the man then and there: only Susan's hand had stayed him. Snape had looked right at him, his eyes dark with malice and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he saw the way he'd riled Harry.

His expression turned to confusion, then annoyance, even as a pressure formed in Harry's head. Recognising the feeling as a Legilimency probe Harry pushed back at the presence, preparing to throw a nasty memory at the probe if Snape persisted. Sadly for Harry, Snape had broken eye contact and started speaking again. He'd been so itching to see Snapes reaction to meeting a thousand year-old Basilisk face to face, as it were.

The lesson – if it could be called one – had only gotten worse from then on. Snape had waxed on about how powerful and fluid and dangerous the Dark Arts were... leading Harry to wonder if the greasy Professor was nursing a hard-on for them. He'd then set them a task that, Harry considered, was beyond nearly everyone in the class; non-verbal spell-casting. Most of the class ended up either muttering the spells, or failing to cast. Only Hermione and Daphne actually managed to cast silently, but both spells were much weaker than normal.

Of course, no lesson with Snape would be complete without him picking on Harry. In this case, he needed a class 'example', so he used Harry, casting a stunner at almost point blank range without warning. Fortunately for Harry, his summer training had kicked in, and his shield had been up in time, though the force he felt through it was worrying. Of course, Snape had taken points since he'd not cast the shield non-verbally.

Getting out of the class had been a relief, though Snape's assignment was horrific in its own right. Between them the group had hashed out a frame they could all with before the girls had to leave for their NEWT Ancient Runes class.

They had all met up again for potions, and things had rapidly gotten out of hand. Slughorn had on display several advanced – and dangerous – potions on display. Harry had easily recognised the Polyjuice Potion; one encounter with the mud like potion was enough, thanks. Of more concern were the others he had out. Veritaserum, Draught of Living Death, and of most concern to the group, Amortentia... the infamous love potion. Harry had shared concerned looks with all four of the girls.

Slughorn had then set the class the task of attempting to brew the Draught of Living Death, even though the class time was not long enough to actually complete the potion. The one who got the best result when the time was up winning a small bottle of liquid luck: in Harry's opinion, a very dangerous thing to just give to a teenager. But then, common sense seemed to be in even shorter supply in the magical world then it was in the non-magical one.

Harry sighed as he followed after the still furiously walking Hermione, vaguely aware of the others following behind him but to focused on trying to understand her sudden anger with him to acknowledge them. They had had disagreements in the past, but never this bad... or illogical.

Since he'd not expected to be able to take the class, Harry had not purchased a copy of the textbook required. However, Slughorn was not as stringent as Snape had been, allowing those who scored an 'Exceeds' to attend. Lacking a book, Slughorn had him passed a spare from the classroom stores. At first Harry had been dismayed to discover the last owner had scribbled and written all over the pages, but then part way through the brewing of the potion, he'd gotten so frustrated at the one task he'd tried the alternative method the last owner had stated was better. To his shock, it had worked brilliantly. Later he'd followed the adjusted instructions again, and once more had a vast improvement in his results... which had resulted in him winning the impromptu contest, and having Slughorn shower praise on him.

But Hermione had not seen things that way. She'd accused him of cheating, and had stormed away from the classroom, barely taking the time to gather her own gear before doing so.

Harry finally caught up with her outside the entrance to their new private common room. "Hermione!"

But she didn't react, just pushing the opening portrait wider to storm within. Inside, Lily looked up from the table, the smile on her face fading as she took in the expressions on both teens faces. Over by the fireplace both Susan and Daphne also looked over, concerned.

Hermione, please..."

"Don't talk to me!" Hermione snapped before she slumped down in one of the soft chairs near the fire, arms folded across her chest.

Frowning lightly, Lily moved to sit beside the younger witch. Reaching out with one hand, she gently rubbed Hermione's shoulder. "Hermione?" she asked softly "what's the matter?"

A sniff emerged from the younger girl before she spoke. "Harry cheated." She muttered. The turbulent emotions clear in her tone.

Lily looked at Harry, one eyebrow raised. Hermione's words made no sense to her. After being in his head for so many years, Lily knew her sons thought processes. Cheating was just not something he would do lightly, if at all. It was just not in his nature to act so.

But this anger from Hermione towards Harry was also not normal. Out of the old Trio Hermione had always been the level headed and rational one. This sudden anger was rather irrational... Lily's train of thought halted at that moment, as a suspicion came to her.

"Winky." She called softly. With a soft pop the elf appeared. Her appearance had undergone almost as much change as Dobby's had. Gone was the dirty, drink-sodden wreck dressed in rags Harry had seen towards the end of his fourth year, sunken in depression and despair. Now Winky's eyes were bright and alert, her pose straight and dignified. She appeared to have gained a couple of inches in height, and the hair atop her head had thickened and lengthened, styled in the same way Emily Van Dort did hers. The rags were gone as well: now Winky was garbed in a simple maids uniform. It had been Hermione who'd worked out the loop-hole in the House Elf Bond that allowed both elves to wear clothing yet not be dismissed from service. Lily had not given Winky the clothing; she had provided the raw fabric with the – gently spoken – order that Winky make herself a uniform out of it. No Potter Elf would ever be dressed in rags.

"yes Milady?"

Lily smiled lightly; she much preferred that salutation to 'Mistress'. "Hermione's supply." Was all she said.

Winky nodded once before disappearing... before reappearing a few seconds later, holding a silver platter. On which rested a very muggle product.

"Malteasers?" Harry asked aloud, confused.

"What? Where?" Hermione almost lunged at the elf, her hands snatching the packet away. In a blur of movement the end was ripped open and the first chocolate covered biscuit honeycomb treat was in her mouth. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed before she sighed in her throat contentedly, her whole body relaxing into the chair.

"Thank you Winky. That will be all for now." Lily told the still startled elf.

Her words allowed Winky to recover. "Very well Milady." She curtsied then vanished.

Lily now turned to Harry. "Now, while Hermione soothes her cravings, why don't you tell me what happened in Potions." She patted the seat next to her.

Harry followed the not quite a command but certainly more than a suggestion and sat beside his mother. Seeing the tension still in his frame Lily looped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into her side. Harry went willingly, soaking and bathing in the motherly affection. Feeling his own emotions calm, Harry started telling her about the lesson just gone. Around then the others listened in, Tracy adding details to Harry's explanation and adding her view point.

Lily listened carefully, holding in her reaction to the list of potions Slughorn had so carelessly had on display before the students. She had hoped that the intervening years would have mellowed the man, made him more aware of the consequences of his actions. Sadly, it seemed he'd remained the showman she remember, always eager to show off his own skill, and not following common sense. _'Then again, Common Sense is not that common. Especially in the Magical World.'_ She thought.

When Harry started telling her about the 'corrections' and additions to the text book he'd been given however, she stiffened slightly. Not many students made such corrections: most just followed the set directions. Only those who experimented on their own would have discovered such small changes that improved the brewing process.

Her blood ran cold however when Harry told her what was written inside the back cover. "Harry... may I see this book?"

For a second Harry hesitated, before reaching down to his bag and drawing the battered potions text out. As he handed it to his mother, Hermione set aside the nearly empty Malteaser packet and leaned forwards, her hand reaching out to brush the back of his.

"Harry... I'm sorry I over reacted."

Harry smiled at her while twisting his hand to grip hers in return. "We were bound to argue about something sooner or later. I guess it was just too much on-top of being the first day back... and one of 'those' days?"

Hermione smiled softly in reply even as she blushed. "I still think you should be careful about using things the last owner just scribbled into the book. Who knows what they have written in there?"

"Mostly, improvements to the brew processes." Lily chipped in, prompting heads to turn towards her. The battered old potion text was in her lap, her hands flicking through slowly. "I recognise a few of these corrections. They are genuine."

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly. "But... if they are improvements, why are they not in the text book? Surely the Ministry..." she trailed off.

"Yes Hermione. The Ministry would not admit that a mere _student_ could improve on a brewing process that has been around for donkey's years." Daphne commented.

"Besides, this student kept all of his improvements to himself. No wonder he became top of the class..." The last she said quietly.

Harry looked at his mum closely. "You know who used to own this book?"

Lily sighed deeply. "I knew them. At least, I thought I did, until the end of our fifth year..." She said sadly. She flicked to the back cover. "'Half-Blood Prince'. Even then his arrogance was..." She shook her head slowly.

Harry was confused. At first he thought that made the book had belonged to Riddle again, but his mums comments shattered that. "Who was it mum?"

Lily looked up, green eyes meeting their duplicates. "Snape." She said softly.

Harry felt a sudden urge to wash as his eyes darted to the book she still held. "Snape?" He asked incredulously.

"But... why would he call himself 'The Half-Blood Prince' then? I thought he was a Pure-blood; he certainly acts like the typical sort. No offense." Hermione asked, eyeing the book like one would a dangerous reptile.

Susan however frowned as she waved off Hermione's comment. "Has he ever actually said, one way or another?"

Daphne slumped. "No. He just let everyone assume his blood status."

Lily smiled sadly. "I only know a little about his home life. But I do know that he's a true half-blood; his mum was a witch, while his father is pure muggle. And... not a nice example of one either."

Harry looked closely at her. "Dursley's?"

Lily nodded after a moment. "More or less. I don't think he was as bad as that man was, but he was certainly strict. Snape was never the popular kid in the estate; we only became friends when he revealed that they strange things I could do was because I was a witch myself."

They all fell silent for a few moments, each with their own thoughts. It was Harry who broke the silence. "So… what now?"

Lily sighed. Keep using the book for now, just... don't use the altered method. While it's not cheating per-se, having superior instructions makes you look better than you actually are. I'll think about what to do with this..." She held up the book "... in the long term."

Harry nodded. "Okay." Sighing, he reached into his bag, drawing out a tiny bottle filled with golden liquid. The Felix Felicis he'd won. "You would have won if not for that." He nodded towards the book in Lily's hand as he pressed the bottle into Hermione's own. "You should have this instead."

Hermione slowly lifted the bottle, letting the light play through it, before she smiled and passed it to Lily. "Thanks for the thought Harry, but I think we should put it away for when _all_ of us can benefit from it."

Lily smiled warmly at the mature decision. "Take five points Hermione, for such a mature, thoughtful and considerate proposal." Though she intended the award to lighten feelings, expressions feel instead.

Harry looked darkly towards the book now. "At least we're back to where we started..."

"Harry..." Lily brought his chin up with her free hand. "...What do you mean?"

A deep sigh came from her other side. "Snapes being just as bad as he normally is."

Daphne snorted. "Worse, Hermione. At least with potions you could read the book and look up the instructions. Now we don't even have that recourse."

Lily was frowning. "Tell me more."

* * *

"So in conclusion, I say we're ready to start operations against Voldemort's forces. Obviously we can't deploy en-mass yet, but individual fire-teams can be put on alert to either respond to, or if chance allows, intercept, one of their teams."

Amelia nodded slowly. It had been a long day and she was tried and exhausted after dealing with the Ministry Morons, as she'd started to call them. Every which way she turned she ran into incompetence, ignorance and plain old job-worths. She'd chased up the Creature Control people she'd alerted regarding the Acromantula's in the Forest outside Hogwarts, only to find that they had spent the months since 'gathering information regarding such creatures, and how to contain a nest of such size.' In short, they'd done nothing. The head of the department had then pulled her aside, and told her that he didn't believe such a nest could exist in the British Isles, much less the middle of the Scottish Highlands. And he was not happy with her not going through proper channels and coming to him first.

Amelia had been so close to striking the smug self-satisfied git, but had managed to leave with dignity intact. What really galled her though was that the man was a suspected Death Eater. He certainly fit the profile: Male bigoted pureblood. Of the last seven hired people in the department, five had been pureblood. The other two were like her niece Susan: classified as Half-Blood but technically three-quarters.

And then there had been the minister himself. She'd never been fond of Scrimgour, but at least as an Auror he'd had set targets to work towards, which gave him direction. Now though, the position of Minister appeared to have gone to his head, leaving him directionless. She had no doubts that he was opposed to Voldemort, but he seemed to have no idea as to _how _to do so. The 'Information for Concerned Citizens' leaflets that had been distributed were worse than useless, at least in their initial form. As Head of the DMLE, she'd been able to get some of the items re-worded. At least now, hopefully people would alert the Aurors if they came under attack.

And now, with the British Army group that Capitan Granger had been training, they could finally start striking back.

"That's good to hear Daniel. We've just not got the personal to handle everything." She sighed. "I've been getting some leads from our contact in Scotland Yard. Hopefully with a bit a luck, we can start going after their bolt holes."

Daniel grinned darkly. "And drop a few explosive or incendiary tipped gifts in?"

Amelia laughed, a deep, cleansing laugh that she really needed. "I wish we could just do that sometimes, but no. We have to bring them in and expose their crimes to everyone. Otherwise, they'll just become martyrs for their cause."

Daniel sighed in response. "Yeah, I understand. Well, just get us a target, we'll get them. Very likely rather worse for wear, but as alive as we can make them." He paused for a moment. "Train trip go okay?"

Amelia sagged in her seat out of relief. "Yes, nothing happened. All quiet... aside from the normal ruckus of roughly a hundred & twenty teenagers heading off to boarding school, with no adult supervision for nearly eight hours."

Daniel shook his head. "I still don't understand why you do things that way."

Amelia shrugged. "It's always been this way. As I recall, the trip itself is to seen as a right of passage... as well as a way to reinforce the whole notion of 'being at school'."

"Well... I guess there has to be _some_ logical in your world." Daniel said as he stood. "However twisted it may be."

"Away with you!" Amelia snapped, but the laughter in her voice clearly showed that she wasn't offended at all.

Smiling lightly, Daniel walked to the guest room set up for him in the manor. His thoughts wandered to his brother and sister-in-law. The two ex-dentists were really embracing the opportunity to remodel the old manor house that they had been gifted. The local firm was very understanding… and able to quickly changes when needed, as a couple of the workers were actually muggle-born wizards who'd returned to the muggle world in search of work. Landing the job with the firm was ideal for them. It was fair to say they were happier now than they ever had been… with the exception of when Hermione had been born. Was it really almost seventeen years ago?

Having showered, Daniel quickly shaved before dressing in the clothes he'd picked out earlier. Nothing too fancy, but certainly much higher class than his normal wardrobe.

As he stood there, dressed in a well fitted suit, he paused. _'Is now really the time for a date?'_ he thought to himself. _'There's a war going on out there, and this… tribe, is right in the thick of it. I ought to be focusing on my role, on training those men.'_

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. _'But what more can I do for them? They were already professionals, trained for combat. It's just the foe we face that's changed.'_

A knock on the door brought his thoughts back to the world. Turning he bid the other enter.

Victor stepped in, his butler's uniform as neat and perfect as ever. "You're choice of vehicle is outside Mister Granger. And may I say that you have picked a fine example sir, though I would have suggested the use of actual horses with a carriage… if we still had some."

Daniel couldn't help but grin at Victor's comment. The Potter's butler was an enigma, his background hidden. His accent, faint though it was, hinted at a Eastern European birth place, Poland perhaps. He seemed to have an endless list of facts about the Potters, as if he'd served the family for centuries.

Which given the nature of the family, was possible. After all, the Potter's had a ghost dragon as a watcher spirit.

"Good to hear. Anything I should know about her?" He asked. Daniel had asked for, and received permission, to use one of the Potter Family's cars for tonight. With the exception of Lily's Stag. That was hers and hers alone.

It had been an experience looking over the other three cars in the garage. Four if you counted the classic Mini tucked in one corner. Daniel had grinned at the sight: his first car had been one of those little roller-skates.

The real shock of the collection however had been in the third garage he'd opened. He'd come face to face with a genuine 1970's Dodge Charger, the classic American muscle car. He'd had to look closer at the beast; there was no other word to describe it. The huge blower/supercharger that jutted out of the bonnet – with it's triple butterfly valves – seemed even larger in real life than in pictures, and the fat tires seemed to almost disappear into the car. Clearly one of the Potters – perhaps Charlus – had been fascinated with street racing, as the Charger appeared to be tricked out just for that. Even the paint job was more racer style, though it was subtle: the bodywork was a matt, pitch black, but overlaid with a flame pattern coming from the leading edges done in a gloss black. It was an impressive – and intimidating – machine, but not in any way suited for his needs.

But Daniel made a promise to himself that one day, he'd take the monster out for a spin.

In the end, he'd decided to use the Bentley he'd first found, rather than the Aston Martin that he was personally more inclined towards. The '78 Bentley T2, he figured, would be much more of a success with his date.

"She has aged well, in my opinion sir." Victor stated. "Please remember though sir that she is a lot heavier than the modern automobiles you are used too, so be extra careful with braking. Also, I would not try any high speed cornering."

"I'll bear that in mind." Daniel replied, then hesitated. "Victor… Should I be doing this? Taking 'Cissa out on a date, with everything that's going on?"

Victor eased the door almost shut behind him, giving him time to word his reply. "Is there any reason _not_ to sir? Madam Black has been pushing herself a lot lately sir, if you'll pardon the liberty. The knowledge that her former husband and son are key members of our foes drives her. She needs time and space to unwind sir." Victor paused. "I am also informed that as a young woman, Madam Black was not really allowed to indulge in dating as such: her betrothal to Malfoy prohibited it." It was a mark of Victor's opinion of Lucius, him not granting the man a title or salutation.

Daniel smiled weakly. "So I should just get on with it?"

Victor bowed his head, not quite hiding his smile. "Aye sir. If you like, consider this; if Malfoy learned that his former wife – the wife that granted him much of his wealth and prestige, I might add – was having a date in the muggle world _with_ a muggle… why, I reckon his head would explode."

Daniel laughed, the tension draining. "I think so too."

Victor now stepped aside. "Yes sir. Now may I suggest you not keep the lady waiting?"

Raising his hands in surrender, Daniel quickly headed down, taking the keys from Victor as he passed.

At that same time, Narcissa Black was staring at her reflection in the mirror in the suite she shared with her sister. The long sleeveless black dress felt very revealing to her, despite the high neck. Butterfly's fluttered through her stomach.

"I'm not sure I can do this Bella…"

Bellatrix stepped up to her sisters side, patting her shoulder while lifting up the jacket that went with the dress. "You deserve a fresh start sis. Lucius was a worm. This… muggle, is anything but."

Slipping the jacket on, Narrcissa found her face twisting into a smile. "Oh, he's certainly everything Lucius wasn't…" She turned to face Bella. "You sure you'll be okay?"

Bellatrix tried to smile. "I'll be fine. Now go, enjoy yourself. Your free, enjoy it."

Narcissa gently cupped Bellatrix's face between her hands. "So are you Bella." She half whispered.

Bella sighed as she gently pushed her sister away. "No, I'm not. I'll never be free of what I've done…" She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Just go. Live for both of us." At her sisters look, Bella smiled. "Promise, I won't try to take myself out."

Narcissa nodded slowly. "Okay."

The manor seemed so silent now, Narcissa thought to herself as she made her way down. When the others were here, there had always been at least some noise, some activity. But now… she shivered slightly, feeling what the Van Dorts must have felt for all those years…

Her thoughts can to a halt as she stepped into the entrance hall. Daniel Granger was stood in the centre, his back mostly to her. Her footsteps however echoed on the stone floor, alerting him to her entrance. As he turned to face her, Narcissa found her eyes running up and down his figure. While he'd always projected a powerful image, now he displayed an inmaculate, gentlemanly figure. _'He certainly brushes up nicely…'_

Daniel stepped up to her, a smile on his face. "You are stunning tonight, Narcissa."

A faint blush formed on her cheeks. "Thank you. You look good yourself."

He offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Narcissa now matched his smile as she linked her arm through his. "Yes, lets."

* * *

Later that evening, Lily stalked through the halls of Hogwarts, her face set in a frown. Combined with the dim lighting, it was a face that would have sent any student that crossed her path fleeing back to their common room.

Ever since the teens had relayed the events of the Defence lesson, Lily had been fuming. Fortunately, after the years of being trapped in her sons head, she had gotten some control of her legendary explosive temper.

However, the lack of release had also allowed the anger to grow.

Once she was sure that all her brood were tucked away safely in their quarters – the last to return had been Astoria, who'd had a last period Herbology lesson – Lily had made her excuses and slipped out. Her destination; the Headmasters office. As much as she wanted to personally ream Snape a new one, she knew she really should go through the proper channels... at least at first.

But if Dumbledore failed – or refused – to rein in his pet Death Eater, she would go right to the problem.

The Gargoyle was already to one side when she approached, leaving the path up free and clear. Reaching the door to his office, Lily took a moment to rein herself in enough to knock politely on the wooden door... rather than barge in like she wanted to.

"Come in." Dumbledore's voice came quietly from within.

Pushing the door open, Lily began to speak. "Headmaster, we really have to talk about..." She trailed off however, when she took in the sight before her.

The office was dark, only a little light spilling from the open window illuminating it with the deep reds of a late summers evening. Around them, most of the silver trinkets that Dumbledore kept were still, silent. With a jolt Lily realised they had been like that the previous night, but she'd been too furious about Snape's appointment to notice.

Dumbledore was sat in his high backed chair, but he'd turned it to look out the window rather than face the desk and door. In the low light the creases in his face were made even darker. But the light was not low enough to hide the gleam of moisture on his cheeks. His right hand hung off the armrest, the shelve pulled down till only the tips of his withered fingers remain visible. The left was curled around a tumbler, half full.

His head twisted enough to look at her. "I had a feeling you'd be here tonight Lily." He said wearily, resignation filling his tone.

Lily slowly stepped over to the desk, sinking into one of the chairs before it without looking. She had never seen the Headmaster look this old or weary before. Unbidden she felt some of her anger fade away. "Albus?"

Dumbledore took another drink from his whiskey. "You are here because of Severus, correct?"

Lily frowned. "Headmaster, with all due respect… why is he here? Why has he been here all these years? A marked, _confirmed _Death Eater, teaching? You know what they have to do to earn the mark."

"Yes… I am aware. Severus, however… as you know, he turned spy for me in the last war. His placement here…" Dumbledore sighed deeply. The urge to confess everything overwhelmed him. "It was all part of my grand plan."

Emerald green eyes narrowed to slits. "Explain. Now."

"As you wish… I had long suspected that Voldemort had found a way to cheat death. I was only unsure as to the method. As such, I planned for his eventual return. By employing Severus, when Voldemort returned, I made him a vastly more important assest in Voldemort's eye. What better than a trusted professor within the school, right under my nose? It was most convient in fact, as Horace wished to leave at that time. As you are aware, Severus is more than qualified to teach potions."

"Albus… he may be a potions master, but he's a shit teacher." Lily shot back, trying hard to keep her temper in check once more. "There's more to being a Professor than just one's understanding of the subject. You have to be able to relay that knowledge, be fair and unbais, be approachable. And Snape's none of those things. His behaviour in the classroom… it's obvious to anyone how biased he is. And as for my son… from the moment they met, Snape has been hounding, belittling and tormenting Harry."

"Ah… but how would you expect a former Death Eater to react when confronted with the one who defeated their Lord?" Dumbledore countered.

"Don't try to excuse his actions Albus! What Snape does is far beyond just acting a role! He's got a personal grudge against Harry. I know he and James feuded…" A twitch in Dumbledore's face gave away his thoughts. "That's it, isn't it? He's attacking Harry because he can't hurt James anymore! That bastard!"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid so. I have repeatedly tried to reach him, asked him to let go of the past… but it's all wrapped up in with why he turned to me in the first place…"

"What do you mean? Why did he turn anyway?"

"Ah… now that I can't tell you. He begged me not tell anyone when he came to me."

Lily frowned, thinking. What could possibly have made Serverus turn against everything he had believed in? True, he'd always been about himself first, but he'd certainly believed in the Pureblood cause. And how could it be involved in his grudge against James, and by extension Harry? Deciding to think about it later, Lily refocused on the Headmaster. "Fine. But my other point still stands. He's a bully Albus. And scum. Not even you can be deaf to the rumours about his… actions."

"I have instructed him to ensure that those vile rumours be laid to rest, Lily. I trust him to prove thme foundless."

"You really are blind, aren't you? That is such an open-ended instruction that he can do whatever he wants and still say that yes, he's stopping the rumours."

"Please Lily, give him a chance. For your childhood friendship."

"Snape ruined that when he called me 'Mudblood'. When he joined the Death Eaters. No Albus, there will be no reconciliation between us." Lily's voice was firm, cold. "Keep him under control Albus, both in regard to my son and the other students. If you can't, or won't… I will."

Dumbledore's eyebrow rose. "Is that a threat, Lily?"

"No. A promise." Lily met his eyes squarely. "I will not allow my son to be harressed any more by a man too petty to let go of past hurt. Nor will I allow the girls here to come to harm from those supposed to protect them."

A deep sigh came from Dumbledore's chest. "I'm sorry you feel that way Lily."

"I don't care." Lily stated as she rose to her feet. "All I care about is my son. He's been without support from our generation for too long. No longer." Turning, she left the office.

Descending the stairs, Lily allowed the scowl to form on her face. Trusting old fool! Couldn't he see what his plans had done to the rest of the world?

Reaching the corridor Lily looked up… and froze for a moment. Then her scowl deepened, while her hand shifted closer to her wand.

A few feet up the corridor, Snape also paused, his robes billowing around him in confusion as he halted.

For a long moment the two old friends looked at each other. Lily found herself examining Snape, searching. _'Time has not been good to him…'_ She thought, taking in the swallow skin, the frown lines and creases. _'Good.'_

Snape broke the silence. "Lils…"

"Don't call me that Snape!" Lily snaped, cutting off whatever he had been about to say. "You lost that right back in Fifth year forever." Snape almost staggered back at the force and vemon in her tone. After a moment however, he tried again.

"Lily… you're looking good." Silence was her reply. "Look… I know it's been a long time, but… maybe…"

"What? You think we can go back to how it was before you started hanging out with the like's of Malfoy? No Death Eater…" Now he did take a step back. "…There is no chance of that ever happening. Not after you spat on everything I believe in." her eyes narrowed as she took a step forward. "Not after the way you've treated Harry all these years."

Inmediately Snapes expression darkened, and scowl formed. "The little brat is just like his no-good, punk of a father!"

"That is _my_ son you are talking about Snape! Along with my husband!" They were almost nose to nose now.

A smirk twitched at the corner of Snape's mouth. "A dead husband. His mouth and atitude finally caught up with him…"

Lily's hand came out of nowhere, smacking Snape across the face with such force that he was sent staggering into the wall. When he regained his wits and looked back, he found her wand pointed right at him.

"If I ever hear of you befouling James' memory again, I will take it out of your hide." Lily stated with a cold voice, her eyes burning with emerald fire. "As for Harry… you leave him alone, you hear me? Him and all the others. If I so much as hear a whisper that you're preying on, or allowing those Death Eater spawn in your house to prey on the girls in this school… well, you'll be needing to sit down to piss for the rest of your wretched, miserable life."

Snape blanched, an impressive feat given his already pale skin. But Lily was not done, as she leaned closer, her furious face filling his vision. "And if you go after Harry again… Death will be a long time coming Death Eater, though you'll be begging for it to come."

With that she stood and strode away, leaving behind a man whose vision of the world crumbled around him, the illusion of the past he'd built in his mind falling, to reveal the truth that he'd denied to himself for over fifteen years.

* * *

**A/N: **And that's it... for now. Kudo's for those who spotted the TF&TF camo.

Can't say when the next chapter will be done. All I can ask is be patient, it will come...


	46. Settling in, Playing with Fire

**A/N: **Hello world! Miss me?

All joking aside, I'm sorry for the long gap between this chapter and last. I know it's trite, but it's all I can say.

What really annoys me is that I can't really define _why_ there's been such a delay. The will and desire was there, the ideas and plot... yet everytime I sat down to try and write up some more, it just _didn't flow._ My creativity has been almost gone these last few months. Not just in writing, but in all my other creative pursuits. Minatures, drawing, game modding... it's all been dead.

Any how... Onto this chapter. To be honest... I'm not completely happy with it. It was put together a bit at a time, and is more 'filler' than anything... but does lead to one of the first major events of the school year, one that I've had planned since the start. Maybe one day I'll go over and rewrite this...

In any case, hope you enjoy this, and Happy Christmas!

* * *

Chapter 46: Settling in, Playing with Fire

The next morning, Harry woke up to a sea of brown hair. Smiling lightly, he gently drew the figure lying in front of him tighter to his body, prompting a delighted moan from her. Leaning forward, he gently kissed Hermione's temple, just above her ear. "Morning my dear. Sleep well?"

"Umm… very." After a few moments Hermione sighed deeply. "Harry… about yesterday…" She begun.

"Hermione." Harry softly cut her off, running one hand up her arm. "You were not at fault. It was just bad timing, what with us all returning to Hogwarts the day before. Resuming classes after our summer…"

Hermione smiled happily at his words. Harry was right: it was just rotten luck that her period would coincide with their return to Hogwarts. The first day of any new school year was always stressful, particularly for her. And with the radically altered summer they had just had… adjusting back to the pace of life within Hogwarts was a shock.

But the shock was wearing off now, and with it her balance. She tightened her hold on his arm that wrapped round her waist from underneath. "What did I do to ever deserve you Harry?"

Even though she couldn't see him, she could easily picture the sheepish grin on his face. "I ask that question regarding you and the others every single day."

"Oh Harry…" Hermione sighed as she leaned back into him, drawing comfort from his solid presence. She had always felt safe and protected when close to him. She _knew_, deep down, that anything that threatened her safety had to get through him first… and Harry was a most formidable barrier indeed.

Her smile broadened as she felt his lips pressed against her temple once more. But then he lingered, gently trailing them down to her ear, then down the curve of her neck. A sound that could have been mistaken for a purr escaped her throat as she tipped her head a bit to give him better access. His free arm trailed down her body, lighting brushing her hip before touching her knee. She could feel his eagerness pressing against her posterior, even as that hand started to move up her thigh, caressing her skin as it slipped under the hem of her nightdress…

That moan turned into a sigh. "Harry… I'm sorry, but… not now."

Harry paused in his ministrations, before lifting his head enough to speak softly in her ear. "Hermione?"

His breath sent rippled through her, but Hermione focused past them. "I'm sorry, but right now… It'd just be too uncomfortable for me to enjoy it." Feeling him draw back a bit, Hermione rolled over to face him, her regret and apology clear in her eyes. "It's not that I'm unwilling, but…"

Harry however just smiled lightly and kissed her softly, derailing her thoughts. "I think I understand. And I'm not angry. I guess… after all the action lately…"

Hermione giggled as the tension within her eased. "We have been acting a bit like rabbits in heat, haven't we?"

"And not just us. Susan and Daphne are just as bad. And as for Fleur…"

A faint blush tinged both their cheeks. Of all the women in the family, Fleur was in a league of her own when it came to passion. While her main desire was for Harry as expected, she was more than willing to engage in imimate acts with the other young women. Long talks with her, as a group, had eased the few concerns that had arisen within the others. It was part of her veela nature, though that did not completely cover it. Her French upbringing was also much more relaxed about sexual matters than the British raised girls. Indeed, her actions had allowed them all to loosen up with each other as well, explore areas of intimacy that they might have shied away from otherwise.

Without a doubt, they all much preferred to be with Harry… but they now also enjoyed being with each other.

Heaving a sigh, Harry sat up, caressing Hermione's shoulder one last time as he did. "Have a lie in this morning Hermione. Take it easy for now."

Hermione looked up at him. "Harry… I can still… you know…" Her eyes darted to his crotch for a moment. "… at least give you some release…"

Smiling gently, Harry used one finger to close her jaw. "You don't have to do that Hermione. I know how you feel about that act." Hermione flushed again. It was true: she was not a fan of oral sex. It made a nice change now and again, but it wasn't something she really enjoyed. Her thoughts stilled when Harry leaned forward to kiss her forehead once more. "You just have a lazy morning, and I'll see you in Transfiguration."

As he stepped into the shower Hermione allowed herself to stretch out and relax in the large bed, rolling onto her back as she did. A happy smile creased her face. _'What did I ever do to deserve such an understanding, thoughtful young man?'_ Harry's display of maturity and restraint just endeared him even more to her.

A soft 'thump' drew her attention, and she glanced down to see a familiar squashed face trot up. "Crookshanks…" she greeted her Familiar as the orange-ginger part kneasle rubbed against her face, his purring filling her ears. Stroking his fur, Hermione allowed herself to relax, feeling all the tension and stress fade away.

* * *

When Harry emerged from the en-suite bathroom he smiled at the sight before him. Hermione was sprawled out on the bed, her face and body relaxed. Crookshanks was nestled next to her head, curled into a round, orange ball of fur. One yellow eye eased open as Harry settled onto the bed, watching him intently.

"Don't worry Crookshanks." Harry said softly as he stroked the part-kneasles back, eliciting a purr from the cat. "I don't want to wake her either." Quietly pulling on his clothes, Harry paused for a moment before bending over to lay a gentle kiss on Hermione's brow. Her reaction was a little shifting of her body and a low, throaty sound of happiness, though her eyes remained closed.

Smiling fondly, Harry made his way down the stairs to the living area. The sight that greeted him when he reached the bottom caused him to pause in contemplation. Sat with their backs to him, talking between themselves, were the blondes in their 'family': Daphne, Luna and Fleur.

Harry found himself taking note of the different shades of blond hair before him. Like most young men, he'd only ever really thought that there was one 'blond' colour for hair. But before him were three very different shades, each different… and each also 'blond'. Daphne's was the most yellow of the three, that of sun bleached corn. Her hair was worn short, just brushing her shoulders. Luna, sat in the middle, wore her pale hair down to mid-back, loose and free, but not as straggly as it had been in the past. The care and attention of his mum had clearly helped the young, sheltered girl. Fleur, by contrast, had her hair trailing down to her hips, a long tail of nearly white strands, which put him in mind of the colour of pearls. Fortunately, the tone of her hair was distinctly different from Malfoy's.

How long he stood there, on the bottom step, just watching the three, Harry would never know. But it seemed no time at all that a bug-eyed lizard head with curled, twisted horns popped up over Luna's shoulder, looking at him. Luna's pet Terror, Gobbler.

"Morning Harry." Luna called out, without turning her head around. "Sleep well?"

Smiling, Harry stepped over to the three, meeting the gaze of both Daphne and Fleur as he did. "Quite well, thanks Luna." He stopped next to Fleur's chair. "What of my French flower?" He asked with a crooked grin.

Fleur grinned even as a blush reddened her cheeks. "Oh you are certainly getting better, Harry." She replied before pulling his head down for a morning kiss.

Once Fleur had released him, Harry dropped a kiss on Luna's temple while giving Gobbler a chin scratch – being careful not to scratch at the back of the jaw, which would have made the little dragon fall asleep in an instant - before facing Daphne. "And you?"

"Quite well, I must say." Daphne replied with a heartfelt, if small smile. She allowed him to sit down between herself and Luna before leaning forward for her kiss. As she drew back her eyes tracked back to the stairs he'd come down from. "How's Hermione?"

"Better." Harry answered, just before a plate with bacon, egg and hash browns appeared before him, along with a tall glass of apple juice. "Thank you Dobby." He called into the thin air before facing her again. "She's feeling a bit guilty about how she acted, but I think I helped her over it. I told her to have a bit of a lie in this morning. Take it easy."

Daphne nodded, touched at his thoughtfulness. Even now, Harry Potter still continued to amaze her.

On his other side Luna sighed. "I, however, need to be going. Ancient Runes." Holding Gobbler close Luna stood up, her free arm dropping to grab hold of her book bag. The little dragon crooned as he laid his head on her shoulder. Her progress out of the room was halted by Harry putting his arm before her.

Harry swallowed before speaking to the younger blond who he regarded as a younger sister. "Remember Luna, we're here for you. If anyone gives you trouble… though I'm sure Gobbler will leap to your defence quickly enough." He finished with a cheeky grin.

Luna smiled brightly. "Oh, I know he will." Her eyes glimmered slightly. "Thank you Harry." She said softly before almost skipping out the doorway.

"I hope she'll be okay." Daphne said softly, her eyes on the closing door. "I think yesterday everyone else was still in shock… seeing her with Gobbler."

"Well… he does make an impression." Harry replied, his mouth twisting into a smile as he thought about how they had found the little dragon, and how he'd introduced himself to Seamus at the Welcoming Feast.

* * *

When Hermione came down from her lie in a couple of hours later, she was much more relaxed and calm. In only a couple of days, the 'Family' found themselves adapting to the daily routine of life at Hogwarts. Despite it not being Potter Manor, they all found themselves enjoying the interactions with their fellow students… some quite surprisingly. Zabini appeared to have taken what Daphne had said to him on board, as he stayed away from Malfoy and his group. Tracy reported that from what she'd seen, it was only the core group left now: several who had hung around the 'Death Nibblers' – as Harry liked to call them – were conspicuous in their absence.

Lavender was a surprise to them, especially Hermione. Were as in the past five year she had seemed set to fulfil the 'blonde bimbo' stereotype, Lavander had returned to Hogwarts this year much more focused and serious. She still laughed and giggled a lot, but there was a drive in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

Not that surprising however was the reactions of the other boys in their year group. Harry was on the end of several dark looks from them at first, Dean in particular looked very put out. Recalling that his former dorm mate had been cultivating a 'Ladies Man' image, Harry guessed that now Dean felt shown up by himself, what with having two of the three hottest girls in their year group around him all the time, along with the rising star that was Hermione. Not to mention Fleur. Fortunately, a few frank discussions with the other boys made them gradually back off, even start to relax and joke with the family.

The exception really was the Ravenclaws. Indeed, the upper three years of the House of the Smart seemed to be affronted by the whole family. Of course, the Ravens had had a reason to resent Hermione ever since she'd entered Hogwarts: she out performed them academically at every turn. Susan and Daphne had also been in close completion with them in their best fields, but now that they were working much more closely with the brunette genius, they too were rising above the Claws. Harry's work also showed a marked improvement, and it easy to see that he would likely continue to rise in the ranks.

Slytherin House appeared to be divided. On the one side were the Death Nibblers, led by Malfoy. While so far he'd been less verbose than other years, the hatred in his eyes whenever he met the gaze of Harry or the girls was, if anything, greater than ever. The other, far larger faction appeared to want to have nothing to do with either Draco or Harry's group, appearing to want to stay well out of it. Mostly it was the younger years, though they did have the seventh year prefects with them. Astoria had sounded this group out a little, and it seemed that the consensus was that none of them would mind Draco's little band disappearing.

* * *

Luna smiled happily as she almost skipped inside the castle after Herbology. These first two weeks of her fifth year had been the best two weeks of her entire Hogwarts experience thus far. Far more confident and relaxed within herself, Luna found everything brighter, cheerier. And it was down to having a loving family around her, friends who supported her. Not one single item of hers had gone missing, which certainly helped. She still mourned her father, but she knew that he'd want her to be happy, not brood and cut herself off from the world. And Harry, Lily, Hermione and the rest helped immensely, just by being there, offering their love and fellowship without strings or conditions or pressure. As such, Luna had found herself sinking deeper into the families embrace far more than she would have thought she would of.

Of course, another key factor was her familiar. Gobbler refused to be parted from her, insisting on coming to lessons with her. At first had caused some troubles, as the little dragon was not afraid to make his displeasure with those students who mocked or belittled her known. Snape had tried to have him confiscated – and knowing him, killed and rendered down into potion ingredients – but Gobbler would not let the potions master within five feet of him. The argument between Dumbledore and McGonagall had, apparently, been heard three floors away. In the end, a compromise had been reached; Gobbler had to stay within her book bag during lessons. If he came out and made mischief, he would be put down.

Snape however had not reckoned – or had forgotten – that Luna had several very bright and clever people who considered her family. Now her book bag had a 'Snorknack Pocket', a little pouch with a greatly expanded interior, in which the little dragon had plenty of room to curl up and doze while in the bag, without affecting the space she needed for her books and the like. Of course, Gobbler was also highly curious and nosy, and often he'd poke his head out of the bag, looking around as she either walked to class or was in lessons. Luna didn't mind: it helped remind her that he was there if she ever needed him.

To be far, he was also a hit with nearly all the other girls in the school, especially the younger years. They thought he was adorable.

Gobbler, naturally, lapped the attention up.

"Oh great, here's the loony. Potter let you out, or could he not stand your crazy any more?"

Then again, there were always exceptions.

Luna halted before turning her head to regard the three girls who stood in the corridor. These had been her biggest tormentors in Ravenclaw, she knew, but had never turned them in, partially because of fear of retaliation, but also because she truly felt that their actions were not really worth bothering about. But now Luna understood that because she'd not struck back, the three had only gotten worse, bolder.

Turning the other cheek was all well and good, but often bullies only understood power.

"Hello Marietta, almost didn't recognise you without your balaclava."

The central seventh year flushed red with anger. Luna noted that faintly visible on Edgecombes forehead 'SNEAK' could still be made out, paler against her flushed skin. She'd have to compliment Hermione on her spell work.

"That bitch had no right to jink that contract!"

Luna sighed. "Do you have anything insightful or meaningful to say? Or should I just assume the nargles have been nesting again?"

Marietta sneered. A very Malfoy-esq sneer Luna noted. "At least you know when you're not wanted. Ravenclaw house can finally hold its head high, with you no longer around to ruin the picture, babbling on about your crazy fantasies and imaginary creatures."

Luna tipped her head to one side slightly. "What makes you say that everything I said was false?"

"Please! Those creatures you kept on about… none of them exist!"

"The Crumple-Horned Snorknak does. So do the others, you just don't believe."

"Ha! I'll believe it when I see one with my own eyes!" Marietta almost snarled.

"You already have." Luna sing-songed, before undo the latch on her bag. Gobbler, who she'd felt had become agitated during the encounter, now stuck his head up and out, eyes narrowed at the three girls. All three recoiled as Luna pointed at the twin curled horns that spiralled from the back of the little dragons head. "See. Crumpled horns."

"T… That freak dragon-frog thing doesn't count!"

Gobbler clearly didn't like the comparison, as he hissed in reply.

"Everything all right here Luna?" Fleur's voice came from a side corridor, preceding the older blond as she stepped out to stand beside Luna. Gobbler crooned as she gave him a short stroke, though his eyes never left the three older Ravenclaws.

"Everything is fine here." Another voice came from behind Marietta, causing her face to twist into a smirk of triumph. From where she'd been stood further back in the corridor, hidden in the shadows, Cho Chang stepped forward, aggressively squaring herself against Fleur. "Just a little internal Hogwarts business. Nothing that a visiting… teacher, need concern herself with."

Fleur eyed the raven-haired Chinese girl curiously. "You were the one that Cedric took to the ball during the Tournament, aren't you?"

Cho stiffened, her eyes hardening. "I see you finally learned to speak properly."

"I've had some excellent coaches. My condolences about Cedric. He appeared to be a fine young man."

"I suppose you'd all about _that_. Least I know Cedric didn't fall for your… _charms_."

As Fleur bristled, Cho looked between the two of them. "You both really are two of a kind aren't you? Two misfits, both in exile. Why don't you both do the world a favour and just disappear? Potter deserves a proper witch, not a loony nor a beast."

Gobbler hissed once more, anger pouring over the familiar bond he had with Luna. Not that she was any better, as she could feel her temper rising. Fleur's eyes were narrowed, and Luna could see that her nails had lengthened and sharpened…

"Why don't we let Harry be the judge of who he want's around him, hm?"

Five sets of eyes snapped to the side, to see Lily Potter stood there, with an ultra-stern McGonagall and a heavily frowning Flitwick. From the corner of her eye, Luna could see how Cho and her friends all paled drastically.

"Professors! We were just…"

"We all saw, and heard, what you were just up to, Miss Chang." McGonagall said, her tone firm. "I have to say that I am very disappointed in you."

Lily, having stepped over to stand with Luna and Fleur, looked towards her fellow professors. "Can I leave these four in your capable hands Professors? I know Harry and the others were asking about Luna earlier. He worries easily about his adoptive sister." Her emerald green eyes levelled on Cho, the threat clear within them.

"Yes, you may indeed Lily." Flitwick spoke, his voice lacking any other of the usual warmth or humour that it normally contained.

As they passed the bullies, Gobbler let out one more hiss, before snuggling back into his pocket. From behind them, Luna heard Flitwicks voice bark out. "You four, my office, NOW!"

* * *

Emma Granger smiled happily as she watched her daughter. Hermione had certainly come a long way since she had been eleven… and it was all thanks to the presence of the young man she was currently in the middle of kissing passionately. Ever since her first day here at Hogwarts, Harry Potter had been central to her daughter's life, even more so after that first Halloween.

Of course, there had been others, Emma mused as she looked around the Potter family Common Room. Most of the other teens were watching the two with smiles and grins. All friends of Harry and Hermione. Gathered together to celebrate Hermione's birthday, something Emma knew had not happened in years previous. Harry had always been aware, and had gifted her precious daughter each year – aside from the first, but he could be excused from that – but most of the others had not known. Part of the blame for that was that Hermione had never really made a big fuss about it; her life before Hogwarts had been much more insular, with just her parents to celebrate with.

Now though, she had a much larger family, and a circle of friends to share it with. Harry and Lily had organised this after class event. For once Harry had convinced Hermione to leave homework for an evening, and just enjoy herself. Emma had backed him up, which had been the critical point in the agreement. Personally, Emma reckoned that Hermione was still a little shocked to see her, her father and her uncle here. It had been Lily who had thought up a way for them in get inside the castle, past the muggle-repelling wards. She'd used the 'Room of Requirement' – a seemingly actual magical room – to 'create' a doorway between the castle and their new home at Potter Manor.

A sudden squawking drew her attention, to see the Weasely Twins grinning at a five-foot, bright yellow canary, which was looking around in confusion. After a few moments the canary moulted, to reveal Tracy, who patted herself down before glaring at the two now laughing twins. Shaking her head, Emma sighed. Pranksters to the heart, even after Lily's little talk with them. Still, at least now they were not malicious about it, and with their shop, were turning their passion into a profitable business. Hermione was an intellectual genius, but those two were inventors of the highest order.

After Dobby brought forth the cake, presents began to emerge from pockets or from behind bags. Blushing bright red, Hermione found herself with an embarrassment of riches. But it was her reaction to Harry's gift – purchased way back in their first two weeks of the summer, that Emma was looking forward to seeing. Fancy inks and books were all well and good, but jewellery really did touch a womans heart. Harry already had her heart, truth be told, but Emma believed that the occasional gift only helped to show just how much one felt for another.

She was not disappointed.

It was clear that Hermione instantly recognised the shops logo on the protective box, as her jaw fell open. She hesitated, prompting others to urge to open it. Finally she lifted the lid, just enough for her to see within… and immediately whirled to face Harry.

"Harry! You shouldn't have!" She said incredulously.

Harry just smiled in reply. "I say how you looked at that. And after what you did – have done, over the last few years – for me, it's the least I could do."

Hermione wrapped her arms back around him. "I've already got everything I could ever want in repayment." She said huskily.

"True. But you deserve more." Harry laughed as he hugged her. "Truth is, without you I'd have been lost. I can't recall how many times you've saved my life, either by teaching me what I needed to know or just being there. So once more, thank you."

"Enough with the sweetness, though it is very sweet indeed." Lavender Brown spoke up. "But what has Harry got you Hermione?"

Blushing bright red, Hermione stepped back to the box. Hesitating only briefly, she removed the lid before reaching in. A chorus of gasps and croons followed when she lifted the Tiara out of the box. Even Emma, who had known what was within the box, was impressed. The tiara was made from spun silver, lightweight and airy in design, but with interwoven strands that gave it strength. The sapphire at the top, while small, was flawless. A couple of smaller diamonds bracketed the central gem.

"Merlin! Hermione, next time we have a ball, you have got wear that!" Lavender's eyes were wide as she stared at the gleaming silverwork in Hermione's hands. "You'll had the lads eyes popping out! They'll queue to dance!"

Hermione was bright red once more, but her eyes were dancing. "There's only one young man in my life." She replied, her eyes on Harry.

* * *

Deep within the Forbidden Forest, where the trees grew tall and dense, a hollow in the ground was the sight of an unusual meeting.

"Our kin grow ever hungrier. There is just not the meat we need."

"Agreed. If we don't find a source of meat soon, many of our kin will perish in the coming cold."

A mass of hissing amd clicking came from the throng that surrounded the central three beings. Long, multi-jointed legs waved in the gloomy air.

The third being spoke now. "Our numbers have grown beyond what we can sustain. A new nest must be established elsewhere."

The second waved a leg furiously. "And where would you suggest? Our hunters have roamed to the edges of this forest. Barren lands surround us. We are trapped."

The first, the largest, was silent for a moment. "There are that small group of two-legs to the east…"

"The armed four legs lie between us and that food." The second hissed, pincers clacking together. "Those prey have killed many of our kin. No, attempting to gain that food would only mean the loss of many more of our kin."

Silence fell, save the clanking of pincers, as the three 'leaders' thought.

"There is that other herd of food…" The third spoke slowly. "To the north. Hundreds, enough to feed our kin for many moons. Rich, succulent… We can all taste their flesh on the wind…"

The other two looked at the third. "Many are young… juicy flesh."

"There is the great beast close to them…" The second warned. "…but the flesh from that one would feed us many moons alone…"

"If we assemble our kin… we could easily…"

A sudden thud interrupted the first ones speech, prompting all three to jump and spin to face the deepest part of the hallow… were a natural earth cave was located. Slowly, a much more massive form emerged, legs like grey, haired tree limbs drawing the rounded bulk of the body further out, each footfall easily heard.

"No…" An array of milky-white eyes stared out blindly as the deep voice spoke. "The school… is not for feeding on. I promised Hagrid… we will never hurt the children."

"Father, our kin are dying! Starving! We must have food!"

The huge creature slammed a leg down. "I said no! We will not… prey on them. It is… Forbidden. You will not… hunt there…"

"Will you deny your sons and daughters food?"

"We will carry on… as we have always done. No human… will be harmed. This… is my decision." The huge creature backed into the cave, every movement slow and stiff.

The three largest watched their father retreat into his lair. Once all movement was hidden, they turned back to regard each other.

"He will not last many more moons."

"That is our father you speak of!"

"Our father is blinded by his 'promise' to a two-legger! To a prey creature!"

"But you heard him: the young prey is forbidden."

"For now. Once he has passed…"

"…Then we hunt, and take for ourselves, and our kin."

"Yes… agreed."


	47. Interlude: Lily's Stand

**A/N: **Sorry, this is not a new chapter for Cure. As those of you who have checked my author profile lately will know, I suffered a hardware failure of my Hard disk recently. Fortunately (in retrospect) it started _just _when I was sitting down to write the next chapter of Cure, so nothings was lost. Even the bit that I had written for a future chapter I can get back (the rough draft is in an attachment in my email) But obviously, there's been no progress on Cure while we got this sorted.

To tide you all over, I decided to post this instead. This is a small one shot I wrote for the Fandom4LLS (Fan support for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society) drive, which raised over $9000 last autumn.

This little ficlet tells the tale of That halloween... from Lily's point of view. Plus her first few thoughts while riding with Harry. Hope you enjoy this brief flashback!

* * *

**Lily's Stand**

Lily Potter smiled as she watched Harry play on the floor before her. His baby gurgles brought peace to her mind. The Potters had not had much peace of mind for the past year… ever since Voldemort had attacked the ancestral Potter Manor. Even just thinking about that brought pangs of hurt to Lily's heart. She had truly fallen in love with the vast manor, the history that could be felt within it, the elegance and understated style. Though she knew that James had it even worse. Potter Manor was his home, his place of birth. To see his home savaged like that…

And then of course there had been the personal loss. Voldemort and his Death Eater scum had killed most of the staff as they fought back. The Potter's three House Elves had also died, taking hits meant for herself or James. But the biggest loss had been that of James mother, Dorea. A sigh escaped Lily's lips as she thought about the Potter matriarch. Dorea was proof to her that not all the 'Old Guard' – as she thought of them – were corrupt bigots. Dorea Black had not followed her family's line and married Charlus Potter, a known supporter of muggles and muggle-borns, in the late fifties. The only reason she had not been disavowed by the fanatical Black family had been because Charlus was a Potter. Lily had been stunned at the history of the family she had married into when she laid eyes on the library contained within the manor. The Potter family could be traced right back to the early days of the Roman Empire. They had been there throughout history, rubbing shoulders with the kings and queens of old. Even after the magical world drew back and isolated itself from the non-magical one, the Potters had continued to interact with the larger world. Lord Potter was still recognised as a title in the British House of Lords.

A chuckle escaped Lily's mouth. Even in that conservative body, the Potters had always been something of a radical element, striving to improve the lot of everyone, noble and commoner alike. Yet also, at the same time, respecting the traditions and customs of the past. It was a delicate balancing act… one which, so far, the family had pulled off superbly.

The shutting of a door drew her out of her thoughts, and Lily looked up to see James Potter step out of the study. A fresh surge of love pulsed through her as her eyes devoured him. James Potter had come a long way since they had first met, back in their first days at Hogwarts. The gangly boy had matured, becoming a well-proportioned, athletic and built man. Some things hadn't changed – the sensible glasses, the messy locks of hair that never lay flat – but now he was, certainly in Lily's eyes, a very handsome man.

"Hey there Prongslet." James stooped down to kneel by Harry. Little Harry, obviously recognising his father's voice, gurgled happily, his face spilt in a wide baby smile. One chubby hand waving in his father's direction.

"James…" Lily reproached lightly as he kissed their sons crown. "…He has a name you know." The smile on her lips, and in her tone, told her husband that Lily was not actually angry with him.

"I know that." James replied as he stood once more, flashing that self-same grin of his. Oh, that grin! So much like the one he sported often in their first few years at Hogwarts, but at the same time so different. "Just trying to start a new tradition Lily-flower." He continued as he sat down beside her, one arm snaked round her waist to pull her against his side.

Lily rolled her eyes even as she blushed. James was the only one who could get away with calling her that. As she snuggled into his side Lily allowed her thoughts to roam once more, focused more on the man beside her.

While James's physical maturation was impressive, his emotional and mental one was even more so. Throughout their Hogwarts years, James Potter and his best friends, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, had been thick as thieves, setting up pranks playing jokes on others. Something that was almost reprehensible to rule abiding, authority following Lily Evans. Having been on the receiving end of malicious pranks herself, Lily had had trouble seeing the funny side. Oh, she'd found herself almost laughing at a couple, but it still rankled.

Of course, part of the problem might have been that one of their more often chosen targets had been her childhood friend, Severus Snape. He'd been the one to show her the world she was now part of. A place of wonders and powers that before she could only dream off.

But to go with the wonders, there had also been the horrors. And Severus… he'd become one of those horrors.

It still hurt, even after nearly five years, his words when she'd interceded in a prank that James and Sirius had played on Severus after one of their exams.

"_I don't need help from a mudblood!"_

Mudblood. Dirty-blood. The term used by those of 'pure-blood' for people like her, magicals born from non-magicals, or muggles as they were known. Lily was sure that even the term 'muggle' was an insult, but even with her great intellect she struggled to find another term for non-magicals that could not be taken as an insult.

Her eyes drifted to James once more. While it was a painful memory, that event had also seen the first sea-change in his personality as well. Up till that point, James Potter had been arrogant, prideful. Okay, Lily had to admit, he had reason to be cocky. His family line was certainly one to take pride in, and he was obviously skilled with magic. Combine that with a great deal of personal charisma and charm… he'd had fans throughout the school, despite – or perhaps enhanced by – his rebellious nature. Those four boys had caused all kinds of mayhem to others in the school.

When he'd returned to Hogwarts after the summer break, it had been clear to her that James Potter had changed. Oh he still played pranks, but the old edge was gone. So too had the cocky arrogance from before. He'd become more humble, more laid-back… more likeable. Lily didn't deny it: He'd already become very attractive in their fourth year. The added years only built upon that. And his new found maturity really changed how she saw him.

But one incident from their sixth year really struck her the most. Heading back to the common room after a lesson, Lily had heard ugly voices taunting someone. She arrived to see five older Slytherins, led by Lucius Malfoy, towering over a clearly terrified young Hufflepuff, from her looks a second year. But before she could speak up a shout from another corridor had made the bullies – and her – turn, to see James approaching, flanked by Sirius, Remus and Peter. Gone had been the playful expression on James face. Instead his features had been turned to stone, showing contempt. After an exchange of words – none of which had been civil – the Slytherins had moved off, the air ringing with veiled threats.

But what happened next had really captured Lily's attention. James, once the Slytherins were out of sight, had relaxed before crouching down before the distraught younger witch. She'd heard his words of comfort, and seen how he'd gently hugged her, offering support. When they had parted ways the little witch had clearly felt much better. Later in the common room, Lily had seen the four boys plotting together, serious expressions on their faces. She'd almost gone over to break up their act, but she'd hesitated, when the name 'Lucius' was mentioned.

The next day, almost the whole school was laughing at Lucius as he'd sat down at his house table… only to suddenly turn neon green, with his nose growing out and turning banana yellow. Looking over the others on the table, she'd noted that the other boys involved in the incident the previous day had also been pranked. But the most heart-warming had been when she saw James exchange a wink with the little Hufflepuff who'd been a victim of the bullies before. The way her face had lit up would have melted hearts of stone.

Since then, she'd watched closely… and seen that those James and the others pranked had all been bullies and bigots. Those deserving to be ridiculed.

It had been the start of her looking beyond her image of James… and finding herself falling for him. He'd grown up, becoming a champion for those who needed help, standing up to bullies. And Lily had always hated bullies.

And then she'd decided to finally allow him to take her to Hogsmede. He'd been trying for several years now, but she'd always shot him down. But now she said yes.

The stunned look on his face, even if it had only been for a couple of seconds, had been priceless.

That's when she started learning about the real James Potter, the man behind the prankster.

And when she started to fall for him.

"What's on your mind Lily-flower?" James voice broke her out of her thoughts, and Lily shook her head to clear it before refocusing on her husband's face, hazel eyes looking at her with such warmth and compassion that she sighed happily.

"Just thinking back to our years at Hogwarts."

"Ah." James face fell a little before he sighed. "I was a right berk at first, wasn't I?"

"Yes, you were." Lily gently pressed a finger to his lips to hold his silence. "But you grew up. You matured."

Smiling once more, James leant down and kissed her. A low moan escaped Lily's throat as they deepened the kiss, the love they shared flowing between them. Her heart sped up as she felt his hands caress her body, lighting the fires of passion deep within her.

Drawing back a little, James dragged his lips along her jaw, and Lily tipped her head back eagerly. When he reached her earlobe, James lifted his lips away to whisper in her ear. "Should we try once more?"

Lily grinned lustily. The two of them had been trying for another child for a while now. Of course, with Voldemort and the Death Eaters – _'Hmm, sounds like some bad rock band'_ she thought idly – after them, they had not been able to really concentrate on it.

Not that the act itself was any less pleasurable.

"Oh, I think so. After all… Dumbledore was sure we're safe now…"

James grinned, but Lily couldn't help but note the flicker of concern in his eyes. It echoed what she felt too. They'd been on the run from the Death Eaters for several months now, constantly having to move on when they were found. Dumbledore had dragged this Fidelius Charm out of his personal library, with assurances that it would keep them, and more importantly Harry, safe. In theory, it was perfect. The Death Eaters would literally be unable to see the house they were in, totally unaware of its existence even.

Still, they had decided to add another layer of protection on top. It was well known to everyone that Sirius and James were brothers in all but blood. And as they all suspected that Voldemort had mole within the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's paramilitary group fighting against the Death Eaters, it was a sure bet that Voldemort knew about what they had done to escape him. For the Fidelius, someone had to keep the Secret, and Sirius was the obvious choice. So, they had made Peter Petigrew the Secret Keeper, for who would suspect unassuming Peter of holding it? Sirius was off somewhere, hiding himself away. Acting just as one would expect a Secret Keeper would.

Misdirection. Part of the Marauders bag of tricks.

Her thoughts were derailed when James' lips found her own once more. Her eyes closed as their tongues duelled, while her hands slid over his shoulders to link up behind his head. One of his own was slowly running up her flank…

A gurgle-laugh from Harry reminded her that they were not alone. Lily pulled her head back. "James…" Her voice came out as a moan as he kissed her neck. "Harry…"

James stilled for a second, before laying another, softer, kiss on her lips. "I think it's his bed-time." He said softly.

Lily smirked. "Oh, right."

Smiling happily, James climbed off her, allowing Lily to stand. Taking a moment to compose herself, Lily moved over to where Harry was sat on the floor. "Time for bed little one…" She said softly as she crouched down to scoop him up into her arms. "Mummy wants to 'play' with daddy…"

Harry gurgled happily, one of his hand waving in the air as she lifted him up. James, watching from the side, beamed at his son as Lily stepped past. Climbing the stairs, Lily continued to smile and whisper sweet nothings to her son as she carried him to the nursery. The words were not important: what was were the meanings, tone and emotion in her voice. Lifting him up a bit Lily laid a soft kiss against Harry's forehead. "Sleep tight my son…"

Harry laughed as she laid him down in the crib, eyes just like her own looking up at her. With a smile in reply she pressed her hand to the one corner of the crib. After a second the light _sommus_ charm, formed from runes engraved just around the rim of the crib, came into effect, and Harry's eyes closed slowly, his limbs stilling as he feel asleep. Lily normally didn't use the sleeping charm that came as standard with the wizarding crib, but every now and again…

By the time she returned downstairs, James had already dimmed the lights, and was just in the act of pouring a glass of wine. A deep red Chardonnay, unless she missed her guess.

"Smooth." She said as she approached. James just smiled at her, that smile that only she saw. The one which melted her insides and was almost enough for her to forgive all his sins. Looping her arms around his neck, Lily pulled his head down gently to kiss him once more. Vaguely she was aware of James setting the glass down, before both his arms wrapped around her, drawing her closer to him.

Their lips parted, and they stared into each other's eyes, separated by only a few scant inches. They could see the love they had for the other, the love that had carried them both through the terrible years since they had graduated Hogwarts. Whenever they had looked into each other like this, they had felt peace, the outside world fading away to nothing.

That instant though they both felt a tingle… the sign that the ward line James had placed across the front path had been tripped. They had set it to alert them if any one visited. Muttering in annoyance, James stepped up to look out.

His sudden, shocked gasp kicked Lily's heart into high gear. "Lily, it's Him! Take Harry and go!"

"What!" Lily. "How…"

James face was stony. "Peter's standing at the gate." He ground out as he drew his wand. "Now go, get out of here! I'll hold him off."

"No!" Lily whirled to stand with her husband. "We all go, together!"

"There's no time!" James pulled her close. "I'll delay him as long as possible. You get yourself and Harry to safety!"

Lily opened her mouth to argue, but James beat her to it, dropping his mouth onto hers. Every iota of his love and passion for her was pushed into the kiss. When at last he drew back he looked into her eyes. "Go!"

With tears in her eyes Lily turned and ran for the stairs. Behind her she heard James move and start casting… just as the front door slammed open. She couldn't help it: Lily had to look back for a moment.

Framed in the doorways was Voldemort. Robes blacker than night billowing around him, skin paler than death. A chill seemed to emanate from him, cutting right to the bone. But worst of all were the eyes, burning red eyes glaring out of his face, the skin taunt over the skull beneath.

"Potter! We met once more, at last!" Voldemort intoned, before his eyes flickered to Lily. Gasping she turned and rapidly climbed the stairs. "Now… stand aside. We have no business with you tonight."

"You won't touch my son!" James defiant bellow resounded before she heard the first spell being cast.

"Then you will die with him tonight, fool!"

The spell casting continued as Lily reached the top of the stairs. But as she reached for the door of the nursery she heard something that froze her heart.

The dreaded spell… _"Avada Kedavra!"_ … followed by the sound of a body falling to the floor.

Then silence.

"No… James…" Lily gasped, pain lancing through her. The creak of the stairs goaded her to act once more, ripping the door open before racing in, slamming it shut behind her once more. A few quick steps and she was by the crib once more. Taking a moment to stop the flow of tears, Lily reached in for Harry, her motions halting the Sleeping charm. "Come on Harry, we've got to go…"

Holding the still sleepy Harry to her chest, Lily raced to the window. Looking out, she felt her heart fall. There was no way to safely get out and down, not with Harry. Turning back, she moved back to the door. Opening it, she gasped in horror. Voldemort had just finished climbing the stairs. Quickly she slammed the door shut once more, before feeling for her wand. It was then she remembered: it was downstairs, on the side-table.

Tears falling freely now, Lily stepped back to the crib even as she heard the approaching footsteps. Turning around, she once more laid Harry in his crib, before kissing his forehead once more. "Remember this Harry: Mummy loves you so much…"

A bang from behind her prompted her to turn around, to see the door on the floor… and Voldemort stepping within, wand levelled. His eyes locked onto her.

"Step aside mudblood."

"No… Please, not Harry. He's only a baby…"

Voldemort hissed. "I will not allow anyone to threaten me. Now once more, stand aside!"

'_Why does he not just kill me? Does he want me alive?'_ Lily thought. A shiver passed through her frame as she recalled some of the horrors they had discovered in raids against Death Eater hideouts. She would rather die than end up like the poor girls they had found in there…

"Do not make the same mistake as Potter! Now I command you, STEP ASIDE!" Voldemort snarled.

"No… please, spare him… Take my life for his…" Lily focused her magic, praying that her gamble would work. While she'd never been able to cast wandlessly, she understood that with magic, _intent_ was the most important factor.

"I will not ask again! Step aside!"

"No… kill me instead… just let Harry live…" _'Come on, please… please work…'_

Voldemort growled. "Fine! Avada Kedavra!"

Even as the infamous, deadly green bolt lanced towards her, Lily felt the magic she was trying to invoke take. _'Yes, got you fool! Harry, forgiv…'_

Then the green bolt struck her, and Lily fell.

* * *

"… now then… to finish what I came for…"

…_Huh? That sounds like Voldemort! But how can I hear…_

…_Wait…_

"Avada Kedavra!"

…_Shouldn'a done that…_

"Wha… YARRGHHH!"

…

…

…_That sound… is that Sirius's bike?_

"JAMES! NOOO!"

…_SIRIUS! God please don't go all to pieces on me now… get up here…_

…_Strange… I can't move… or speak… what is going on?_

"Oh god, Lily!"

…_At last you're here you big… wait, where are you?_

"Merlin… it's all my fault…"

…_Sirius, we ALL agreed on the switch! You couldn't have known Peter would betray us! We couldn't… wait. Harry's crying!_

"Merlin, Harry! You're alive!"

…_Thank god for that! It worked. But… why am I still here? How can I hear this, but not see anything?_

…

…

"I'm sorry Sirius, but Dumbldore told me to bring 'arry to 'im."

…_Hagrid! What the hell is Hagrid doing here?_

"…Fine. Take good care of him Hagrid."

…_Sirius… what? What's with that tone of voice?_

"I promise Sirius."

"Take my bike too. I have a rat to kill…"

…_Oh no Sirius… now's not the time to go haring off after Peter! Look after Harry first! Sirius Black you get back here this instant!_

…

…

…_I can see! Where are we Hagrid? Hagrid!_

"Oh hey 'arry! Don't you worry none, you're safe with me."

…_Hagrid, I am not my son!_

…_Wait… when did you get so big?_

…

…_what is going on here?_

"Don't you worry noth'en 'arry. We'll be back down in no'time."

…_Hagrid… why are you calling me Harry?_

…

…

"Albus… are you sure about this?"

…_Minerva… wait, what is Dumbledore up to?_

"I've been watching them most of the day, and frankly they are the worst sort of muggles around…"

"They are also the only family he has left."

…_Dumbledore…muggles… family… oh no… please don't…_

"Everyone in our world knows his name. For something he'll never remember. He's better off growing up away from all that… until he is ready."

…_and who decides when he's ready Dumbledore, you? Besides, Sirius or Alice would not let Harry get inflated with pride!_

"Good luck… Harry Potter."

…_Don't you dare Dumbledore! You can't leave Harry with my sister! You witnessed the will! You know we forbade him going to her!_

"Albus… I still don't agree with this. This isn't right."

…_Come on Minerva, you can stop this…_

"It is for the best that Harry grows up away from all the fame of last night. He'll be safe here. None of them will be able to reach him here."

…_And he'd be just as safe with Sirius or Alice! Come on… take Harry to where he belongs, anywhere but here!_

"I… I suppose you're right Albus. I don't like it, not one bit, but… if he'll be safe…"

…_No Minerva!_

"I am certain. Petunia would not turn her nephew away."

…_Yes she would! How blind are you?_

"Now, we must depart…"

…_How could he… how could he just… leave Harry with my SISTER!_

…

…_How did I hear all that? I should be dead…_

…_at least Harry's alive…_

…_Harry…_

…

…_I feel… something…_

…_A presence…_

…_Like when I hold Harry…_

…

…_My god…_

…_I'm… in… Harry…_

…

…_How?_

…

…_Wait…_

…_There's something behind me…_

…_Cold…_

…_Voldemort…_

…

…_no…_

…

…_YOU WILL NOT CORRUPT MY SON!_

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you all liked this little slice of Lily/James, and I hope you follow what Lily did here.**  
**

I'll try and get a new chapter of Cure done as soon as possible. Just... have a little faith.


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